Scourgify
by Pretend Fiction
Summary: The words be careful what you wish for never rung truer, especially when I discovered my family name. Wait... what did she just call my father? Oh, oh god no, anyone but them! Please god no! I'd rather scourgify my own blood then have them for a family! I would take the Malfoys- no, even Voldemort over them! Anyone but...! SI-OC. Pairings undecided.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or spongebob

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Prologue<strong>

Suppose you go out for a lovely stroll one day for a breath of fresh air. You cross the street, pondering the mediocrity of your everyday life, when _BAM! _

You get hit by a careless driver, dying instantly and painlessly.

This, of course, is not the end for you because that would make for only a random and mildly entertaining death, much like your own life. Which, in turn, would make for _such _a boring story.

Through some trick of fate, you are reborn as Harry Potter's twin sister in the Harry Potter universe with extraordinary magic, elemental powers, and genius intelligence. Given the chance to rewrite the story, you use said powers to turn the tide at every _single_ confrontation imaginable and win the affections of most everybody around you.

But that's not all! The ones who don't fawn over your every twitch hate you with the passion of a thousand burning suns. They do not appreciate your humble approach to the praise hurtled at you, and make _pathetic_ attempts to ruin your reputation. Does it work? Of _course_ not! They all fail and end up humiliated by your previously mentioned quick wit and aptitude in magic _and_ elemental powers. Through all this resentment and mortification, there is still a tiny part of them that _admires_ you. Oh, and they're all from that detestable House nobody likes.

What's this? You've managed to snag the most charming, handsome, powerful, _and _intelligent male in all of Hogwarts? He's wrapped around your little finger and loves you with, well, the passion of a thousand burning suns? You have hot, kinky sex with him nearly every day? Good on you, you foxy girl!

But wait one second, this is incredibly unrealistic! It's too perfect and you're a Mary-Sue!

Well, you're absolutely correct. No higher power in their right mind would bestow _this_ kind of luck on a mere mortal.

I _wish_ this was what happened to me. Instead of dying quickly and painlessly on my trivial walk, the last thing I remembered was a very big, very menacing Mack truck coming my way and a very blurry, very blue sky. It was actually quite a sunny and cheery day when I died in that slow and excruciating manner, courtesy of the broken bones and traumatic hemorrhaging.

After an undetermined amount of time, I found myself reborn in another world. Not a world I was obsessed with or had extensive background knowledge of, mind you. Out of all the fictional worlds I could have ended up in, it was the Harry Potter universe. Don't get me wrong, I love the Harry Potter series, it's just I would have preferred a more mild plot line, like say Twilight. The most I would have dealt with was a hundred year old pedophile obsessed with a seventeen year old girl, as opposed to a Dark Lord obsessed with blood purity and death.

This, unfortunately, was where the vague similarity ends. I was not reborn as Harry Potter's twin sister, nor did I get special super powers of awesomeness that let me beat the crap out of people I hated. I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed either, but according to that case study some random psychologist did, watching Spongebob one too many times in my previous life may have caused the slight stupidity I was inflicted with!

I didn't get to hang off the arm of Witch Weekly's _Most Eligible Wizard, _or anyone like that. Actually, my peers didn't like me at all, and they certainly didn't trust me. Not that I blamed them. If I encountered someone from _my_ family, I'd be running for the hills and shooting hexes too. Sometimes, I still fight that urge myself whenever I see my relatives.

Now, I'm aware that in a lot of Harry Potter fan fictions, the people reborn into this world in families that they initially didn't like, end up becoming attached and love them down to their very core. This was not the case with me. When I realized where I was, or more accurately _who _I was, I screamed. For a good, _long_ five minutes. It was that appalling. I was mildly repulsed by the members in this family and their allies when I read the books, and after becoming a part of it, I was absolutely disgusted with them. There was one I did get attached to, but even that was tinged with disappointment and dislike. Because you see, my family was…

… Oh god, I can't even admit it. It's just that horrific. You'd have trouble too, if you were in my position. If you told me to count my blessings, I did have one thing going for me. At least I was reborn as a _girl _again.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading!

Just wanted to clear up a few things, this story _is_ an SI fic but this character isn't anything like me nor was she based off me. Secondly, this fic is meant to be a humorous one, and not overly serious. It will get a bit more intense in the later parts of the story, but it will retain it's comedic element. Thirdly, this story will also have romance, but the pairings aren't decided yet so don't hound me with questions. Suggestions are welcome though. I don't have a beta yet, so if anyone is interested, just shoot me a PM.

Finally, I know this is only a short prologue but I won't continue with the story if no one shows any interest. This isn't a threat for reviews (though I do enjoy people's opinions), it's just that I don't want to spend my time writing a story that nobody reads, so even one favorite or a follow will do and I'll keep writing. So far, I have the next two chapters written. Look forward to it.

-Fiction


	2. Chapter 2: Scourgify

A/N: Apologies for the horribly late update. Life happened and my hard drive died, along with the chapters I had written up *sobs*. Good news is, everything is all fixed and I have the entire story mapped out. Yay! Hope you enjoy the chapter, it's over four times longer than the prologue.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Warning: There is very very mild language (as far as I'm concerned), and my third POV writing is kind of rusty. I'm used to first person, but third POV is necessary for this story.

No Beta

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Scourgify<strong>

The only man in the room flinched at the shrill sound of a baby's cry, shattering the imaginary world he had created for himself to escape from reality. He found himself doing that a lot lately, and wondered briefly if he was slowly driving himself mad. It certainly wasn't healthy for one's psyche to constantly pine for a better life he had undoubtedly lost. In his dream world, he was free to do whatever he pleased, with his sibling and mates by his side. He wasn't shackled to a duty he hadn't really understood when he dedicated himself to it, he certainly didn't have a wife, and she _most definitely_ wasn't giving birth to their first born child. Or rather, just gave birth to it.

_'Oh Merlin, it looks exactly like its mother.'_

It was rather quiet for a newborn, only having given one scream before immediately quieting down. The nurse had finished wiping away the repulsive fluids that clung to it and quickly shoved it into the weak arms of its mother. She smiled weakly at it and cooed, caressing its soft cheek. He grimaced and looked away, escaping once again into his mind. It was simply too much to take in.

If someone had asked him where he would be in five years, he would, beyond a sliver of a doubt, say it wasn't here. If they told him he'd be in the middle of such a farce, he would have laughed at them before hexing them into oblivion.

A _son_. He didn't want children, at least not yet, and certainly not here, not now, not with _that_ woman. Maybe he could pretend it was a nephew, or a guest in the house. _'Or a troll,' _he mused. It certainly looked like one.

A harsh gasp broke his thoughts and he looked again with exasperation plainly written on his features, before they shifted quickly into confusion. The woman had shifted the baby in her arms and appeared to be bracing herself for something while the nurse was swiftly moving and murmuring that they were almost done. It almost looked she was preparing to give birth... _again_. It couldn't be. He was fairly certain he would have noticed if the mediwitches had diagnosed his... wife with another baby.

Apparently not, he realized with dawning horror while cursing his inattentiveness. The nurse was making encouraging noises and preparing to catch what he desperately wished was a quaffle at the foot of the bed, while the woman made grunting noises and pushed. _'Please Merlin, let it be a quaffle she's birthing...'_

Alas, his desperate pleas did not magically change the laws of nature, and out popped another shrieking baby. Only in this case it did not seem to want to calm down, and continued screaming at ear-damaging levels.

_'Spectacular,' _he thought dazedly as the nurse thrust the crying baby in his arms. _'Twins. That is simply __**spectacular**__.'_

"Quiet down, lovely, you're meeting your father," the nursemaid said in a strained voice. Surprisingly enough, that seemed to quiet it down.

He blinked down in shock at the equally astonished baby. Familiar eyes blinked back up at him and he recoiled with a wince, an unflattering noise escaping his throat. He thought he saw hurt in her eyes for a second before they flattened out in a very unamused expression. He almost laughed at such an absurd look on a newborn. There was no way it could have connected his reaction with the appropriate emotion. It simply didn't have the mental faculties to recognize that.

"The baby," he almost dropped the baby at the weak voice. "I want to see..."

Obligingly, he none-too-carefully pushed the baby into her mother's arms while she shifted the other baby to make room. He realized belatedly that he didn't catch the older twin's name, then shrugged and retreated back into his corner, watching the once again surprised baby.

"Valeria," she rasped, her face twisting into a mockery of a smile while his froze. "You're name is Valeria."

The man's expression was a mix of horror and shock at the eerily familiar name while he watched mother connect with daughter. He felt the sudden need to apparate far, far away from this heart-warming scene. The woman continued cooing at her daughter.

"Valeria, my sweet daughter..."

Watching with detached interest, he felt a spark of amusement as the baby's face seemed to parrot his own, first freezing, then morphing into shock and horror. A heartbeat passed before her loudest scream yet erupted from her tiny throat, breaking supersonic levels. He covered his ears with his hands and the nurse quickly fled the room in the wake of such a painful scream.

This time the man did laugh.

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><p>It was with great determination that the newborn girl attempted to dodge the flying punch from a weak fist. Unfortunately, Valeria's little body didn't allow her to achieve such a task and only managed a weak wobble in the other direction. She would have been completely understanding of the other baby's need to move its feeble little limbs, had she not been forced to share a crib with him.<p>

The baby girl briefly considered hitting back, but quickly dismissed that. It seemed a little cruel to her to hit another baby, even if the little bugger was a piece of work. Besides, he gave her something to do in the hours of boredom that came with lying in a crib. When she wasn't frantically attempting to roll away from him, she was silently cursing the cosmos for landing her here.

She glared morosely at the constellation screen above her. It was beautiful and changed every few hours, but it seemed a little excessive for the parents to hang a damn TV over the crib, not to mention hazardous. What if the screws were loose and it toppled over her and her...brother. She'd much rather have them play the news so she could have some idea of where she was.

Valeria reflected on the situation she found herself in. If she had to make a guess with the evidence given to her, she would have to say she was reincarnated. It was the final explanation she had come to after so many months of this new reality. Whether it was a glitch in the system, or simply her fantastically bad luck, she could recall most of her past life. Especially the Mack truck. It was, after all, very hard to forget one's own traumatic and bloody death.

Valeria's past life hadn't been extravagant. Granted, it wasn't the dullest life one could have. She had two parents, four sisters, and a dog. Her parents weren't the nicest ones around, but they weren't the meanest. They were simply distant.

Not that they didn't love their children, but it certainly felt that way to the sisters growing up. As a result, they looked to each other for support and comfort, and when they fought with each other, they sought out the dog's unconditional love. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for her sisters and vice versa, and it absolutely boggled her mind whenever other siblings hated each other. She was firm in her belief that siblings were always there for each other, through thick and thin, they always came first. Blood over water, and whatnot.

So, when the comforting walls she had found herself in began to contract and Valeria was dreadfully and disgustingly pushed out into the world, she had hoped to find a family she could depend on. Old or new.

It was hard to ignore the obvious signs of a dysfunctional family, especially when, Valeria noted with a dark humor at her own expense, it was very similar to her first family.

It became increasingly clear to her, however, that this new family was even stranger. It couldn't have been more obvious that her... father wanted absolutely nothing to do with his children. What she did see of him appeared to be painful 'bonding' sessions mandated by his wife at what she guessed to be about once a week. Her... mother was his extreme opposite. She smothered them with attention so much, it was suffocating and almost off-putting after a while, although Valeria was a little biased. How many nineteen year-olds would really be able to enjoy such blatant intrusion of their personal space? _'The breastfeeding was bad enough,' _Valeria thought, feeling a little green.

In the first few months following her second birth, her eyes were too weak to make out much of their appearances. Her mother's face had been thick, mismatched and lopsided blurs, while her father's was a blur of delicate shapes. As her eyesight sharpened and her locomotive functions became less restrictive, she began to take note of the oddity that her parents were even a couple. They were extreme opposites in everything Valeria could think of, her mother simple and brazen and her father snarky and reserved. They always went about their days in what Valeria guessed to be companionable silence, and when they did speak to each other it was always in disagreement. Her mother was content and her father stressed. Their affections towards their children was decidedly different, and their aesthetic appearances were like night and day. There really is no kinder way to put it: her mother was hideous and her father was handsome.

Her mother's face was very thick, had no neck and had stringy black hair. Her dark eyes- which were very much like her brother's and Valeria was anticipating she had as well- were deep set into her face with slightly sallow skin and a nose squished lopsidedly into her face. Her smiles curled up into something sinister, but Valeria dismissed that as an unfortunate happenstance. They probably just appeared that way due to her unfortunate genetics.

In contrast, her father's features were aristocratic, pale, and smooth with a straight nose. He had messy black hair and a brooding face, with the most morose and striking grey eyes Valeria had ever seen. He never smiled, so Valeria made it a point to never smile at him.

_'They are the kind of couple you can't help wondering how their children would turn out,'_ Valeria thought dryly. _'And I suppose I get to find out.'_

Theirs seem like quite the love story. It was a little heart-warming and nice to see one could find love pretty much in anyone, even ones who's personalities clashed like oil and fire. Love knows no bounds had never rung truer, and Valeria was looking forward a little to asking her mother how they met.

_'Or maybe it's the whole opposites attract thing,' _Valeria mulled. _'Goodness knows __**I **__have next to no experience when it comes romance and all things gushy.'_

After getting to know her family after a while, she had quickly decided she was fond of her brother- Vinnie as their mother called him- and her mother despite the two constantly encroaching on her personal space. Vinnie was a baby after all, and she was simply a doting mother.

After only her first meeting with her father, she instantly labelled him an insufferable and immature jerk. The argument he had with his wife at the time went something along the lines of: "But I don't want to touch them," and, "But they're your babies!"

She had never, not once in her past life met any father, or adult for that matter, unwilling to grow and own up to their responsibilities and act their role.

_'What an assbutt,' _Valeria thought vehemently and eloquently. She took a sick pleasure in staring soulfully and mournfully into his eyes when he had picked her up. It made him fidget uncomfortably, maybe even a little guiltily.

Unfortunately, all that seemed to be the most normal thing about her family.

The twins' caretaker was heaps weird. After mind-numbing months of being in her crib, she still couldn't tell which gender it was. It was bafflingly short with batty ears and enormous eyes. It always suddenly appeared in their nursery with a mysterious crack, and hopped up on the rails of their crib- which freaked Valeria out the first couple of times- to get a good look and snapped its fingers at them. She still couldn't figure out what the snapping was for, but it seemed to get the job done of changing their diapers and cleaning them. One day she was going to catch how it managed to accomplish this without ever laying a hand on them.

It's behaviour was also stunningly bizarre. She discovered it was quite the masochist when it started to violently bash it's head in after realizing it forgot to carry out one of its mistress's orders, scaring the living daylights out of both her and her brother. Which, of course, drove it to punish itself again for frightening the 'little babies'.

It yammered in third person, which was confusing at first because Valeria thought it was trying to tell her what another person's thoughts and chores for the day were and couldn't understand why that would have anything to do with her. It said things like, "Binky must make sure today's dinner for the houseguests is perfect, or mistress will be angry," or, "Binky has to take the best care of the little babies, or mistress will throw Binky to the Dark Lord." Now that Valeria was thinking on it, that last comment was stupendously disturbing. She shuddered.

Her parents also seemed to be a little unhinged. At first when her mother mentioned the importance of blood purity in her vicinity, her father grumbling in the background, Valeria hesitantly agreed that, yes, it was very important that her blood was free of artificial hormones, preservatives, and whatnot. The most crucial part of life is one's health after all. Then they started to delve into crazy talk, like magic and elves and witches and wizards and the like, as if it was the most natural and common thing to talk about, and Valeria hesitantly began to consider the possibility that her parents were, in fact, insane.

Her mother seemed to have a penchant for gore. She would often regale them with stories of her curses and fierce battles against the wretches of the world, which is admittedly very strange to be telling her infant children. She even once bemoaned a failed curse that was supposed to have a mudblood- whatever that was- bleeding from all her orifices, which left Valeria gagging a little. Her mother had strange tastes in video games and perhaps had the delusional tendency of thinking they were real. If Valeria was going to be a little honest, she was a little resentful that her mother hadn't brought her and Vinnie to play with her. She hadn't touched a video game in ages after all.

The words _be careful what you wished for _came into a play a little over a year after their birth.

By that time, both infants graduated from crawling to walking and uttered their first words. Vinnie's first word was 'papa'. Seconds later, Valeria took the opportunity to say the word 'go', which was quickly followed by 'away'. Ten points to whoever guesses the person she was talking to.

It was late in the night when a loud bang woke up Vinnie who, in a fit of annoyance, slammed his fist into Valeria's face and woke _her_ up. There wasn't much lighting, but she instantly recognized the voices.

"…Move now!" That was Mother. "Binky? _Binky! Get in here you damn house-elf!"_

A mutter of _lumos_ filled the room with light, and an irritated growl followed her voice, "No need for that! We're staying right here."

"No _need?!_ You fool, _we have no choice!_" Mother bellowed at the baby-hater, Valeria's favorite substitute name for Father. Her ears perked up and she wrapped her meaty fists around the bars of her crib to lift herself up and peer at the couple, a light emanating from an incredibly skinny flashlight in the baby-hater's hand. This was new, most definitely different from the inane chatter she constantly heard.

"Of course we have a choice. We lie, simple as that."

"Lie? _Lie?! _What you're suggesting is traitorous, _blasphemy!_ The Imperius Curse? I will not have our names sullied!" She screamed at him and shoved her face in his. "_He_ will come back, and _he_ will know we always stayed true to him."

There was a large crack and Valeria's huge eyes widened in surprise as the masochistic caretaker _materialized right in the middle of the freaking room!_ She sat back on her little bottom and took the scene in, not hearing much of what they were shouting about as the little elf hastily packed suitcases of baby clothes and knickknacks.

That was... impossible. People, humans, didn't just pop out of nowhere. The laws of physics and nature did not allow for that. But was Binky the Masochist really human, Valeria realized with a dawning revelation, didn't Mother just call it a _house-elf? _

Valeria's mind whirled as she remembered clues she was too dense to piece together. Mysterious short caretaker that did mysterious things and was an actual house-elf, check. Known spells and curses like _lumos_ and the Imperius Curse, check. Obsessions with blood purity, check. Known terminology like- and Valeria winced when she thought this- mudblood and Dark Lord, check. And... her face tensed from a shocked expression to one that was very unamused and _very irritated _as she tilted her head to look up into the ever changing screen of the TV that hung over her crib.

Valeria almost wanted to slap herself for being so stupid. What kind of idiots wasted a perfectly good flat screen TV by hanging it on a _damn ceiling!_ No one, that's who! The _goddamn ceiling_ was _enchanted!_

Harry Potter.

She was in the _bloody_ _Harry Potter series!_ Valeria wanted to throw something. She wasted a whole year in blissful ignorance of a _magical _world!

"So that's it then? You're suggesting we live the rest of our lives on the run for a dead man?" Baby-hater's voice snapped her attention back to her parents and she looked at them in a new light. Who were they talking about? _Who were her parents?_

"_He _is not dead, and _he_ is the greatest wizard who ever lived!"

"Was, Victoria, he _was _the greatest wizard that ever lived, _and he's not coming back!_"

There was a choked gasp, then a sob. "Valere Crabbe, don't you dare say that again. The Dark Lord will rise again-" Her words were cut off by several more watery sobs, but Valeria stopped listening to their argument again.

_'Wait…what did she just call my father?'_

There were several things about her words that should've raised red flags in Valeria's mind, but she could only focus on one thing. She didn't care that her parents were most likely racist Death Eaters. She didn't give a rat's ass that Mother was threatening to raise them on the run. She couldn't even care less that she seemed to have a one-sided love affair with bloody Voldemort! No, the one thing Valeria zeroed in on was that one little _name _she called the baby-hater...

_'Oh, oh god no, anyone but them! Please god no! I'd rather scourgify my own blood then have them for a family! I would take the Malfoys- no, even Voldemort over them! At least they weren't notorious for their stupidity!'_ Valeria's blood roared in her ears and she was shocked into a frozen state, until Vinnie started to cry. Oh, _Vinnie…_

The sudden, striking realization of who she was sharing a crib with made her finally snap from the shock and too many realizations. One of the two insufferable characters that literally no one liked or cared about, especially her, was _in her crib! _Valeria pushed away from the toddler and screamed, screamed loud enough to stop the argument the two adults were having.

_'How could I have been so naïve, so clueless! I should have instantly made the connection between the nickname Vinnie and __**Vincent Crabbe**__!'_

Seconds later, a pair of hands snatched Valeria up and she was staring into striking grey eyes. In a moment of hysteria, Valeria had the sudden urge to blame Valere Crabbe for not being Sirius Black. He most definitely could have passed as him, with the aristocratic features, grey eyes, and black hair. Sirius would've been a cool father to have.

Instead, he was glaring straight into her own eyes and commanded in a very loud voice, "Valeria Irma Crabbe, stop your unbearable screaming! You're a pure-blooded lady, the youngest of the Crabbe family line, and it's high time you start learning how to act like it!"

So Valeria, of course, screamed, screamed louder and harder than she ever had, past life included.

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><p>AN: And so,Valeria's new and slightly traumatizing life with the Crabbe's begins. I know, it could be worse. Could be Umbridge or Filch. Or both. *shivers* If you haven't noticed already, Valeria is stupidly naive about a lot of things.

How many of you thought her dad was some twisted AU version of Sirius or Regulus Black? I'm betting you're mad, it _was_ an incredibly dickish move to pull. If you did think it was one of them though, I promise that's the meanest thing I'll do to you.

And finally, thank you so much to the people who reviewed, favorited, and followed _Scourgify_. You've inspired me to keep writing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Look forward to the rest!

Though I am curious. How many of you expected it to be the Crabbes? Or some other family? I did put quite a few red herrings in there.

-Fiction


	3. Chapter 3: The Crustaceans vs Literacy

A/N: Sorry for the late-ish/short-ish update. You wouldn't believe how awkward it would be to hold a conversation with one of these characters. It made my damn dialogue itself awkward! So frustrating!

I've decided to give the Crabbes the code name 'The Crustaceans', just in case new readers decided to look through the chapter titles before they read the actual fanfic. I do that sometimes, even though they occasionally spoil something for me.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter, not me.

No Beta

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

(This is a crab, by the way!)

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><p>Chapter 3: The Crustaceans vs. Literacy<p>

Valeria stared blankly at her father as he read the Daily Prophet, wondering why she was even bothering to hide her exasperation.

She had spent the entirety of breakfast attempting to catch his attention and was unsuccessful. By now, both her mother and brother had left the table, his untouched food was most definitely cold, and Valeria's patience was worn to threads. Not for the first time she entertained the idea that he might be illiterate, if the fact that he was still reading the front page was anything to go by.

Or maybe not.

Valeria had difficulties pegging her father's intelligence over the last few years. He had, after all, a very 'hands-off' approach towards rearing his children and thus she didn't see much of him.

Not that she could blame the man. Vinnie was a very scary child to handle; his violence was severely enhanced with his stupidity and it made for a spectacularly out of control weapon. As for Valeria, after that highly traumatizing night filled with revelations and sparks triggered by her accidental magic, she had taken to gazing at him with either a look of incredulous disgust or accusatory hatred.

She hated bigots, and if Death Eaters were anything, they were _massive_ bigots.

In any case, both the weaponized child, and the scornful and heavy looks had greatly disturbed the man, and he seemed to retreat further into his shell. He would flee the room every time they encountered each other the first chance he got. Cowardly, in her honest opinion. What kind of a man was so easily cowed by a toddler's stare?

Perhaps that was why he was spacing out and staring so intently at the paper; unnerved by her unwavering stare and waiting for her to leave so he could avoid dealing with her. Which was simply ridiculous; she already made every possible effort to avoid talking to him and making any sort of contact, so one little aberration from the norm couldn't possibly kill him. Valeria's eye twitched and she tried one more time to garner his attention politely.

"Father? Pardon me, Father?"

...

Silence ensued and the man continued to 'read' his newspaper. Valeria's face morphed quickly into a frustrated glare before shifting into a devious smile, her eyes sparkling with glee. _'Since the man is so absorbed in the pretty words prettily arranged on that paper, surely he wouldn't hear what I say next?'_

"Hey, baby-hater, is your brain addled or something?" She snapped in a scathing tone unnatural to a toddler.

And suddenly Valere was looking up from his newspaper in shock and whipping his head around as if looking for a ghost, scaring the bejeezus out of his daughter and making her jump in her little chair (she hadn't been expecting such a sudden and strong reaction). He quickly regained his senses and blinked down at her in bewilderment.

"What did you just say?"

Valeria slapped her palm to her face to hide her smirk and pointed innocently at the newspaper, side-stepping his question with another, "Can I see that?"

"The Daily Prophet?" He asked in return, baffled, and Valeria resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yeah."

"This paper?"

"Yeah."

"The one I'm reading right now?"

"Yeah."

"You're interested in this? A paper that doesn't even explode, make loud noises, or sparkle?"

Valeria simply raised an eyebrow at the star-struck man as if to say, is that such a surprise?

"Well, I don't see why not," he acquiesced gruffly after a moment and quickly added before handing over the newspaper to the four-year-old. "And 'yeah' is not proper vocabulary to be used by a Crabbe lady. Respond with 'yes', or... something."

He trailed off eloquently and this time Valeria did roll her eyes at the man as she snatched at the paper. Even after four years of being a father he still wasn't used to handling children. He fully expected her to make the best out of 'or something'. Not that she couldn't, she knew perfectly well what he meant seeing as she was an adult in a four-year-old's body. He didn't know that though, so it gave Valeria another reason to silently mock the man.

She liked to do that a lot. Mock the man. It was her favourite past time, in fact, and lately she'd been getting away with voicing her thoughts out loud if she was smart about it. Valeria grinned to herself, and shook her head to dispel her thoughts.

_'More important things to deal with now. Mother doesn't read the Daily Prophet, it took me so long to get my hands on one!'_

With the paper finally in her tiny hands and alone at last, Valeria skimmed the front page and raised her brow at it.

MEMORIAL BUILT IN OSTHAVEN IN HONOUR OF LOST SOULS

_Before that fateful day three years ago, the town of Osthaven was victim to a brutal and damaging battle between hated Death Eaters and honoured Aurors. Over thirty good witches and wizards lost their lives in that fight against You-Know-Who's forces, and there were over fifty muggle casualties._

_The Battle of Osthaven was dark and turbulent; according to one of its survivors, 'I can still remember the screams and flashes of red and green. Muggles screaming, children crying, families torn apart. I even found a baby shoved into a trashcan, some poor muggle family's last attempt to protect their child. I lost my brother in that fight and sometimes it still keeps me up at night, wondering if I hadn't apparated away with it, he would still be alive. Now I'm wondering if I'd even still be here."_

_It is a dark stain among many on wizarding history. The cruelty inflicted on the muggles by these Death Eaters drove even more insane, and some wizarding folk speculate that it was the most drastic..._

Valeria scoffed at the article as she opened the newspaper up and continued reading. It was no wonder the man was so fixated on this story. He was probably reliving the glory of being a Death Eater and all the pain he inflicted on poor unsuspecting muggles. _'Not just muggles,' _Valeria thought to herself sourly. _'They were people like me, like my old family. Non-magic folk. That could've been __**my **__family they were torturing.'_

Granted, her old family didn't even live in Europe, and she was pretty sure her parents would have been young teenagers during the eighties and most likely hadn't even met yet. Not to mention the fact that they didn't even live in this world. But... it still rankled Valeria to see people like the ones she lost in death, so horrifically tortured and-

"You can actually read that?" Came the mystified voice of Valeria's new father. It snapped her out of her depressing train of thought and she levelled him with another incredulous, albeit confused, stare. _'I thought he would've left by now.'_

On the contrary, he was leaning across the table and gazing at her with the most confounded expression she had ever seen. Was this so hard to believe? She probably should have waited another year before 'publically' reading for it to be considered normal, but Valeria hadn't expected the man to actually watch her, let alone _stay_. Maybe she could play it off as normal that a four-year-old can read and comprehend news articles, and hope the man accepts it...

"Or... something," Valeria replied with a little twitch to her lips and continued in her best angelic toddler voice. "Can't _you_?"

The man paused and narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, suddenly more serious and mature than she'd ever given him credit for. Maybe he was more intelligent than Valeria initially thought because he ignored her question and asked, "And who taught you how to do that?"

"Mother did," Valeria lied smoothly, nonchalantly flipping another page. She was unwilling to throw Binky under the bus, even though that would have been more believable.

Valere reeled back in shock as if his daughter had grown horns and claws, all seriousness forgotten, and yelled, "She can _**read**__?! _Read things_ that _complicated_?!"_

He sounded so scandalized, Valeria had to take a moment to wonder at her own mother's intelligence as well.

"Yes, of course she can." _I think_.

The poor man was flabbergasted, sputtering incoherent words and accidentally knocking over his plate, sending it crashing to the floor.

"You- but she- how..?!"

He stopped, stared at her for a few more moments and almost shouted at her in his confusion, "But she's so _stupid!"_

Valeria could only stare at him blankly in answer and after some minutes of looking into his manic eyes, he shoved away from the table and stormed out of the room. She shook her head in confusion.

"Well... that has got to be the longest and awkwardest father-daughter conversation in the history of our relationship," she muttered to herself, shrugged, and flipped to another page in the newspaper.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p><em>'Maybe that wasn't such a good idea...'<em>

Valeria was sweating bullets. She let herself get carried away.

After finishing the newspaper (which didn't have a lick of useful information) and apologizing to Binky for the shattered plate and wasted food, it had suddenly hit Valeria how dangerous that conversation was.

_'I'm screwed. Royally screwed. I might as well iron out my face and join a travelling circus.'_

Her father has figured out her secret, she was sure of it.

She had suspected that he was suspicious of her behaviour. Anyone with average intelligence would be able to notice something was off with that conversation (how many literate, snarky and sarcastic toddlers do you see running around?), and she had only just realized that he might _actually have __**average intelligence**__! _

A Crabbe. That is correct, a _**Crabbe**_, with average intelligence!

It was mind-numbing.

It made Valeria's head _hurt_.

She let her guard down. She was so used to her mother missing the signs of her abnormal maturity without batting an eyelash. Even when she did catch them, it was something along the lines of, "Oh! _My _Valeria is so smart! She's a prodigy that one! Who's a good girl?" With a pat on the head as if she were a dog. Demeaning, but at least she was safe from scrutiny. But her father...

_'That shit head was so absent from my life it took me this long to realize he would find my __not really __mature behaviour suspicious!'_

And he was onto her. _Oh Lord, _he was onto her!

How was Valeria so sure? Through critical thinking, analysis of their previous conversation and interactions, and a slight touch of paranoia, she had narrowed down all the questions to ask and research he could do to uncover her secret. It took a superior intelligence to be able to surmise that certainty by oneself in a matter of seconds.

Mostly she just happened to pass by his office and overheard him muttering to himself and the word, "-reincarnation-".

Really, _Vinnie_ could have come to the same conclusion as Valeria.

Anyhow, Valeria had frozen up, shivered, and continued toddling woodenly down the main hall of their small mansion, little heart beating erratically. She was still wandering around in fact. Where was that iron? There were facial features that needed smoothing out.

He had probably gone ahead and asked her mother if she had indeed taught Valeria how to read. The whole thing was suspicious to begin with, even if they accounted for supposed genius. Valeria had never seen her mother read anything longer than three sentences. Which was probably impressive for a Crabbe, when one thought about it, but not enough to teach a damn _toddler _how to read at that level.

At any rate, there was no possible way she could have taught Valeria how to read. Her father wasn't at all unjustified in his surprise at the claim of 'Yes, _of course_ Victoria Crabbe can _read_'.

It was too much to hope that Victoria Crabbe would convince and flatter herself into thinking she _had _inadvertently taught her four-year-old daughter how to read. Valeria's fate was sealed as soon as her father had asked her mother. The truth would have been revealed-

"Yes, Vinnie, it's true! Muggles do have tails. Like a dog's- no a rat's! And they smell like death because they rot without magic. I've seen 'em myself, and smelled 'em too! I mean them! Them. I've seen _them_. I swear on the Dark Lord! ...No, Vinnie, don't say ''em'. Say 'them', that's not proper talk. _Mudbloods _and _blood traitors_ talk like that. Mummy was just trying to keep you on your toes."

Ah, yes.

Valeria had completely forgotten her mother was a pathological liar.

This was excellent.

There was no_ way_ her father could trust her mother's word.

Valeria was momentarily stricken by the fact that she was actually _thankful _her family was filled with a bunch of idiotic nut-jobs.

She stopped in front of Vinnie's and her playroom in relieved wonder, where her mother was teaching her older twin brother very important life lessons.

"Now, Vinnie, you can always tell a muggle apart from magic folk by one simple thing! They are not in control of their bodily functions and constantly allow their mouths to flop open and _drool_ like animals. Because they _are_ animals! Wild beasts!"

Very important life lessons, indeed. Valeria's eyes narrowed at the saliva dripping from her brother's own open mouth. She felt strangely indignant for the animals of the world. They were definitely more regal and dignified than _that_.

While her mother continued to indoctrinate her brother with her crazy racism, Valeria retreated back into her previous train of thought. Perhaps that's what her father was.

Crazy.

Only someone completely mad could jump to that conclusion after all.

That would certainly be another factor that brought her parents together as a couple, the other one being that they were both pure evil and racist assholes. Nothing can bring two minds together quite like a common ideology. After previously coming to that conclusion, she had refrained from asking her mother about their love story. She knew the woman wouldn't censor the carnage and death they might have doled out.

Even if they _had _had a peaceful courtship, she doubted her mother wouldn't embellish the details and add a bit of blood and gore. Psychopathic, pathological liars tended to do that.

Valeria wondered if anything her mother told to her was true at all.

"Valeria."

The young adult stuck in a toddler's body looked at her mother glumly. She beamed back.

"In a few days, you and Vinnie will be leaving the house to meet a new friend," she giggled. "Look forward to it darling, I want you on your best behaviour."

The little girl's ears perked up, expertly ignoring the strange wink her mother shot her.

A new friend? The only people she had ever come in contact with was her family, Binky, and the nurse from forever ago. She was beginning to think her parents had no friends. Maybe she was wrong.

Valeria let her lips twitch into a rare smile. Even meeting a toddler was oddly exciting nowadays. Now if only she could remember what kind of friends her parents would have had in the books...

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><p>AN: Oh, I wonder who it could be?

It is a bit of a jump straight into the important events of our (not really a) heroine's childhood. Probably seems random too. But honestly, if I wrote filler chapters, I wouldn't be able control myself and spam your poor eyes with them. Unless you guys want that, or... something.

In case anyone's wondering, Osthaven is not a real place, as far as I'm aware. I figured it was okay to make up a place since JKR made up Cokeworth. Every time I re-read the words 'battle of Osthaven', I couldn't help but think of the Battle of Ostagar. I play too many video games.

**HEY HEY HEY!**

Remember last chapter when I promised I wouldn't do another mean thing to you guys? Well, forget that promise. In fact, just ignore any promises I make to you in the future.

Assume I am a filthy liar like Victoria Crabbe. Seriously. It would be horrible if I promised to update on a certain day and failed to keep it or... something.

All that aside... Thank your for the favorites and follows! I didn't expect the follower count to go up to 20 after one update, seriously, thanks guys. Really made my week.

Remember to review please! Reviews are like a fanfic writer's sustenance, our bread and water. Feed a hungry writer. I'll try my best to respond to them.

-Fiction


	4. Chapter 4: Betrayal, Dark Objects, Apes

A/N: Sorry for the late update. This is the longest chapter yet though, so hopefully that makes up for it!

I got a guest review!

RandomLurker: Thank you so much! It's always nice to hear positive feedback for a story. It is true though, I find that there are more self-inserts floating around in various fandoms and unfortunately not all them are that great. I'm such a big fan of the well-written ones though(I'm writing one after all. Probably not well-written, but at least decent). I find they add a new depth to the story and it's always fun to see how a stranger affects the story line. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter X)

Disclaimer. JKR owns Harry Potter, I only own Valeria. Oh, and I also don't own Lord of the Rings or Smeagol.

No Beta

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Betrayal, Dark Objects, Apes, and Smeagol<strong>

Valeria ran as fast as her little legs could carry her through the unfamiliar halls, passing by numerous paintings and expensive trinkets on display and silently cursing her parents and the brats to high heaven.

_'New friends, my ass,' _Valeria's mind practically growled when she almost tripped over her own legs. _'New monsters more like.'_

She skittered and ducked into a narrow passage, wheezing and resting her small hand on a hung tapestry to catch her breath, only to fall inside a little hidey-hole.

_'Well, I suppose this works too,' _she picked herself up and coughed out the dust cloud that insisted on pervading her lungs. Valeria breathed deeply through her nose and out through her mouth despite this, in an attempt to steady her breathing and calm down her furious mind. It only half worked.

She felt a zing in her core that she now recognized as magic ignite, red sparks popping around in her the small space, and lighting the contours of her toddler face with an unearthly red glow. Accidental magic always occurred when she was beyond livid.

"Those flaming bags of shit," she snarled and hissed out loud to the back of the tapestry, her accent from her previous life rearing its head. "I oughta haul their worthless asses to Canada and throw them off the top of the CN tower. Or feed them to our national geese. God knows those things are vicious."

The tapestry did not respond, but Valeria wasn't expecting it to. She was too busy fuming, muttering, and ruminating on the events that lead her here.

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><p>The day after her unfortunate slip up with her father, Valeria had woken up to an unusually excited mother. She was never a morning person, past life included, but the little girl couldn't help feeling amused at the woman's enthusiasm. It was like watching an ugly puppy meet a new friend for the first time, which was a little backwards considering it was Valeria and her brother who were meeting another child today.<p>

Breakfast was the same as yesterday; Vinnie was quiet, her mother yammered about things no one really cared about, and her father fired strangely pointed questions at Valeria that had her repeatedly questioning his sanity.

"Do you have a constant craving for fruit, particularly apples?"

"Not really, no."

"Do you like to sing mudbl- muggle music?" This elicited a small gasp from his wife.

"They have music too?"

"Of course. How do you feel about the Japanese?"

"The what?" Valeria feigned ignorance again. Truthfully, she loved Japanese cuisine and was quite fond of the sparse cartoons- anime, or whatever they call them- that had aired on television when she was first a child.

One of Valere's tired eyes twitched at her blatant lack of knowledge. He uselessly informed her of the various cultures and ethnicities that existed outside the Crabbe household before flinging more questions for the rest of the morning, even lurking behind Valeria, Vinnie, and her mother as they walked back to their rooms to get ready.

It was obvious that Victoria Crabbe was quite pleased with her husband's newfound interest in their daughter, sneaking glances at them while she practically vibrated with energy. Vinnie was quiet as per usual. Valeria, on the other hand, found the sudden personality change downright off-putting and a little disturbing. She suspected a psychotic break. After all, the man had been muttering to himself about _reincarnations, _a sudden conclusion that deserved a trip to the nearest knew reincarnation was possible, being subject to it herself, but he obviously didn't know that, nor was she about to tell him. In the end, she resorted to sticking close to her twin as if he were an impenetrable shield, thankful he wasn't particularly twitchy or punch-happy today.

Her mother dressed her in her best casual dress, baby blue satin complete with shiny shoes and an abundance of frills that made her feel like a fancy Alice from _Alice in Wonderland_. Her hair was brushed a million times over for shine before her mother rushed out to help Vinnie.

Valeria picked at the fabric of her outfit, appreciating the nice material. It seemed a little old-fashioned to her, but that was probably because she was still used to the twenty-first century's style. At least the skirts were wide and ended just above the knees, thus providing a free range of movement.

Pressing her ear to her door and hearing nothing out of sorts, the child-shaped young adult quickly peeked under her bed to scan her forbidden pile of shorts and pants she had stolen from her brother. She selected a pair of short shorts and swiftly pulled them on under her dress, the skirts hiding any evidence of the 'unladylike' garment. She kicked her legs around, satisfied that the movements went unhindered.

It helped that Valeria was friends with Binky. She agreed not to out her secret whenever she cleaned under the bed. The house-elf even laundered her stash for her.

Victoria Crabbe was so clueless sometimes.

Feeling mighty pleased with herself, Valeria stepped out of her room and was surprised to see her father waiting outside the doors, staring blankly at a painting across from her room. It was a rather striking portrait of a beautiful woman. She wondered idly if her father liked to look at beautiful women in the streets.

_'He could just look in a mirror for that,' _Valeria snickered to herself. Another thing she liked mocking her father for was his effeminate features. Her mind wandered to an image of him dressed in his own satin blue dress.

"Hey, Father, have you ever worn a dress like mine before?" The seemingly innocent question popped out without her permission.

The poor man jumped and his eyes widened when they landed on her. He looked particularly green when he mumbled a yes.

Her eyes widened, a surprised giggle erupting from her lips, and her father shot her a glare before storming off, muttering about how boys do stupid things as kids.

Normally a glare from a parental figure would be enough to reprimand a toddler; instead it made her giggles roar into maniacal cackles, and the confused looks her mother and twin shot her when they exited Vinnie's room only made her laugh even harder.

Death Eaters in pretty dresses. That was a hoot.

It was only until they reached the giant fireplace in the living room and her mother shouting a random address while throwing in some Floo powder that her laughter finally died down. She was shaking with mirth while she and her twin each clutched one of their mother's hands, and were stepping into the roaring green fire together when her mother suddenly turned her head and said in a contented tone, "I'm very pleased you're in good spirits to meet the Malfoys."

The young girl's mind could only pull a blank at that comment.

"Wait, what?"

Valeria almost dropped the hand she was clutching as a green world zoomed and spun around her, fireplaces zipping past at an alarming speed. She inhaled a mouthful of ash and soot, choking on the foreign particles. Her feet stepped on solid ground and she leaned on a cool marble fireplace, her head bent forward and short figure shaking as she coughed. A massive glob of spit flew in a graceful arc from her mouth and onto the lush carpet under her feet as she looked up at her family, grimacing at the bitter taste on her tongue.

"That was disgusting, let's never do that again."

Valeria's eyes met the aghast faces of the Malfoy family and her mother's appalled one. She made the solid assumption that she did not, in fact, make a good impression on one of the most influential wizarding families around. Spitting on their obviously expensive carpet can do that to one's reputation. Victoria Crabbe looked like she wanted to cry.

"Oops."

"Mister and Misses Malfoy," Victoria quickly apologized. "Please accept my sincerest apologies for my youngest child. It was her first time travelling by the Floo Network." Funny that, Valeria sincerely thought her unappealing entrance was truly living up to the Crabbe family name.

Lucius Malfoy's cold eyes met Valeria's and he sneered a little when she looked away. "I can see that."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet your children, Victoria," Narcissa stepped in and expertly turned the tense situation around with a beatific smile. She gave her son a barely noticeable nudge. The small child approached Victoria and kissed her hand, surreptitiously hiding a grimace in the action, and parroted his mother. Victoria cooed at the 'darling boy'.

_'Smooth,' _Valeria thought with a grudging appreciation. The Malfoys raised their son with impeccable manners, especially for a four-year-old. Valeria herself found it difficult suppressing her own grimaces around her mother, and she had the past four years to practice schooling her features around the unfortunate hag.

_'Oh, gross,' _Valeria almost said out loud when the blond kid stepped up and grabbed her own hand. _'I'm getting a kiss from Draco Malfoy. Will this nightmare ever end?'_

It was unfortunately very wet and sloppy, Valeria noted as she murmured a proper greeting to the pale family, something that wasn't all that surprising for a toddler. It might have even been adorable if his face wasn't a carefully blank mask, even when he shook her twin's hand. His performance was impeccable, and no self-respecting pureblood parents could be any prouder. She almost detected a hint of smugness from the young boy.

Unfortunately for the Malfoy heir, Valeria still took offense to his obvious distaste for her mother. Only the Crabbe family themselves was allowed to find Victoria Crabbe repulsive, and despite her evil and utter stupidity, Valeria was fond of her mother and her doting approach to her children. She never had that kind of absolute adoration from her former mother and it brought on a strange sense of loyalty.

It would be so _tragic _for the boy if he botched what she assumed to be his first greetings towards houseguests. Valeria wasn't above knocking a kid down a peg or two. No one ever said she didn't have a mean streak.

Especially towards haughty people she didn't like.

"Aren't you going to give my brother a kiss too?"

The adults stared quietly at the children as the young boy faltered and looked confused, "Pardon me?"

"You heard me. It's only fair, you kissed Mother and I."

"But- It's not proper et'quette. He's a boy," the young Malfoy was confused as he looked to his mother and back to the quieter, indifferent twin. "You're a boy."

Clearly in the wizarding world, bestowing a kiss on a fellow man as a greeting wasn't just unconventional, but socially forbidden.

Valeria faked a startled gasp, her twin still indifferent, "Are you telling me he's unworthy of a kiss? This is a slight to the Crabbe family name!"

Poor Draco Malfoy paled, looked back at her, panicked, and drove himself in a corner, "No! An heir to a pureblood family is never unworthy!"

"Then give him a kiss."

"But-"

"Proper purebloods don't say but!"

"He's a boy!"

"Quit your yapping and kiss the damn boy!"

"I-"

"Kiss him!"

"No-"

"Do it!"

"Why-"

"_You must kiss him! Hurry!" _Valeria pushed her face in his, commanding with a false urgency that usually had younger kids in her past life scrambling to carry out her orders, eyes wide with panic.

Valeria prided herself on her bullshit. Fabricating a tense situation out of nothing was something she could do in her sleep. In this case, insulting another pureblood family, even one below one's own station, was something that the boy would want to avoid, especially at the wrath of his father. Fortunately for him, it was just silly child logic that would probably make the adults chuckle later. No harm done, really.

_'Except to his pride,' _Valeria almost snickered. _'Oh, I'm going to enjoy reminding him of this years later.'_

Vinnie, the _still_ indifferent boy (bless his heart), stared blankly and practically fluttered his eyelashes as the twitchy and flustered blonde daintily picked up his fat hand. He almost looked like he was _blushing _a little. Draco Malfoy leaned in gently for an elegant kiss, the tips of his fine, blond baby hair brushing Vinnie's hand and-

The fireplace roared with green flames, a pudgy woman with her equally chubby child stepping inside. The woman blinked at the scene.

"Isn't that a boy?"

The young Malfoy's pale face flushed and he dropped Vinnie's hand. "Yes," he responded defensively, glaring at Valeria.

"So close..." Valeria muttered quietly to herself. Whatever, at least the perfect mask was dropped. It was beginning to creep her out anyways.

"Misses Goyle, young Goyle, so pleased you could make it," Lucius drawled after shooting his son a reproving glance and Valeria a distasteful one for her little scene.

Valeria cursed quietly. Leave it to her mother to drop a bomb on her right before she steps into the Floo Network, _and_ fail to mention that there was _yet another '_friend' they were meeting. She thought that maybe she could handle both an embarrassed Malfoy and an eternally stupid Vinnie, but the extra load of low intelligence might just be too chaotic, even for her, and Valeria can handle complete anarchy. She survived the Crabbes for the last four years, after all.

_'This is increasingly becoming more like an ominous meeting among villains than a play date,' _Valeria grumbled to herself as she eyed the Goyle family in front of her. Who else was going to pop out of the fireplace, Peter Pettigrew? Or maybe Snape, like a bat out of h-

The fireplace roared once again with emerald flames and, lo and behold, out came the very greasy potions master himself. Valeria shrieked, earning herself some incredulous looks, and frantically shifted her eyes to her spit stain on the carpet. She had to avoid eye contact at all costs.

_'Sweet mother of all that is holy!' _Valeria screamed in her mind while the women exchanged pleasantries and the men sneered at each other. _'Cow shit! Why in the hell is __**Snape**__ here!? Why why why why!? On a children's play date to boot! Does he even have kids? Is he hiding them in his hair? I'm pretty sure that's considered a form of abuse, all that grease... Oh lord, why is Mother smiling and nodding her head at him? __**Why is he nodding back**__!? Do they __**know **__each other!? I'm dead, sweet baby Jesus, I am __**dead**__! He's going to use his Legume super mind-reading powers on me! He's going to find out I'm a muggle in witch's clothing and __**kill me**__! He's going to tell..._

_'Actually...' _Valeria breathed a sigh of relief. _'Who __**is **__he going to tell? Dumbledore? I always forget he's secretly on the Light side. I suppose it wouldn't be a __**complete **__disaster if Snape used his prowess in Legume to search my mind.'_

Not that Legume (or rather Legilimency. Valeria wasn't very good at recalling obscure spell names) was a giant concern for the moment anymore. He and Lucius were already disappearing down a corridor and the women were tittering together at something supposedly delightful, like a new way to torture muggles or house-elves or something. It seemed today was a play date for the adults as much as it was for kids.

Valeria paused for a moment. Why would the author of the _Harry Potter _series name this particular mind-reading spell after the French word for vegetable? Maybe because it left the victim feeling like a vegetable afterwards or something? How curious...

"Valeria, dear," her mother's voice called her from her thoughts and the woman knelt down to her height. "Behave."

The young girl flinched at the tone in her mother's voice. She's done it now, finally pissed off her dear old mum. She had long given up trying to see how far the woman could stretch her patience some months back, but it looked like she hit the right button at last. Without even trying.

The woman was waiting for a response, so she quickly mumbled, "Yes, Mother."

A familiar, sinister smile curled up on her face and she patted her daughters hair, "Excellent. It's important you show yourself off as a good match-up."

That last part was said in a whisper, but it hit Valeria's ears like a shout and her earlier panic came back with a vengeance. Her eyes darted around and landed on Narcissa's beautiful face.

"Draco, honey, why don't you go play with your new friends?"

Valeria couldn't help but whimper a little.

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><p>The reincarnation and the brats had assembled in a spacious hall in one of the wings of the Malfoy mansion. (Seriously, how rich were these pretty, blond blood purists? It just wasn't fair, <em>at all!<em>)

Vinnie was staring blankly at the ceiling whilst digging for gold (so gross), Malfoy was pouting and wallowing in self-pity, and Goyle had a dopey look on his face. If Valeria had been looking at him she would have found the dull, flat look void of any intelligence in his beady black eyes breathtakingly unbelievable, but instead she was staring at the glum blond with a kind of maddened desperation.

_'Please no,' _she silently begged. _'It's bad enough being a Crabbe. I don't want to have to marry the damn antichrist! Or seduce him, by the way Mother said 'good match'.'_

Sure, he was an innocent and adorable child _now_, but she knew how he would turn out later. He absolutely abhorred muggles and muggleborns in the books, and truthfully Valeria still considered _herself_ a muggle.

Every day, despite the absolute insanity that was her idiotic family was, was wondrous and, well... _**magical**_**. **All the books Valeria could get her hands on she read with absolute fervour, not to prepare her for the dangers she knew would come, but simply because it was all so _amazing_. If she didn't know her mother was an absolute walking disaster, she would have begged for demonstrations with her wand. Instead, she settled for displays of a different strain of magic: the elven kind. Binky indulged all of her breathless requests for magic, and Valeria was absolutely obsessed in a way that only a non-magic person could be.

Which was exactly why she would rather marry a troll than marry Draco Malfoy. She couldn't stand muggle-haters. Besides, their personalities would clash anyways. Valeria didn't want to end up in a relationship like her parents, despite the romantic love story that had to have brought them together.

Valeria will botch the match, whatever it took. No way in _hell_ she was going to marry _this _prat. Anyhow, she'd probably feel like a cradle-robber, even if he caught up to her mental age. She glared at the young boy with a conviction that could raze even Olympus. Her fierce look wavered, however, in the face of such a sad... well, face. Why was he so upset again?

Oh, right.

She'd embarrassed the child in front of his parents, his father who he idolized. Perhaps it was a little cruel a trick to play on such a young kid. Valeria _did_ have the mature (even Valeria had to scoff at herself for that thought. _Mature, _yeah right) brain of a young adult. This boy was a _four-year-old _for crying out loud, they weren't even on the same playing field. It was reminiscent of kicking a puppy.

At that last thought, Valeria turned a little green. She absolutely adored puppies. A hint of regret surfaced in her chest. Maybe she should apologize, or make it up to him?

At the sound of her name, she blinked and looked at Dopey, missing the calculating look in Malfoy's eyes. _'Huh,' _Valeria's thoughts turned idle again. _'I just realized this was when the Unholy Trio was formed. Never realized their 'friendship' was intentionally put together by their parents... Oh sweet mother of...'_

Valeria just had another realization. They expected _her _to be a part of the team, another lackey. It wasn't the Unholy Trio, it was the Unholy _Quartet! _

_'Never!' _She shouted in her mind vehemently. _'Never ever will I- Why in god's name are they looking at me like that?'_

Valeria had yet another realization. She was the odd one out. The only intelligent one. The only girl. And they had picked up on that.

"Pardon me, but what did you just say?" Valeria asked politely. Wouldn't do to anger Dopey too. Malfoy was bad enough.

"I said that we should play Muggle Hunting," Dopey replied slowly, as if it were difficult to string together eight words. Valeria instantly decided to give Dopey a new nickname. He looked more like an ape when his face was in motion.

_'Ape,' _Valeria slowly tested the name in the safety of her mind, not paying attention at all to what he was saying. _'Yes, that fits him perfectly. My god, I don't think there's an ounce of intelligence in him. Even Vinnie looks smarter than him.'_

Valeria shook off the strange sense of pride that sprung up for her brother. "Could you repeat that?"

"Muggle Hunting."

_Oh, no_. Valeria desperately hoped this wasn't what it sound like.

"All of us chase one person around. Just like Muggle hunting," Ape's face twisted in a giddy smile.

"I think _Valeria _should be the muggle," the little blond shit supplied post-haste with a nasty smile. He didn't even realize how right he was.

_'Oh screw him, both of them,' _Valeria shrugged off whatever sympathy she felt for the young Malfoy. _'Vinnie and I can take them __**both**__.'_

No sooner than she thought that, a pair of hands roughly pushed her to the ground. Valeria blinked up, disbelief coursing through her.

Vinnie.

It was _Vinnie _who pushed her.

Her own _twin._

This broke some kind of law. An unspoken rule. If any kind of siblings stuck together, it was twins. Valeria of all people should know. He may be a violent little idiot, but he was still a child and he hit both their parents too; heck, it was probably a sign of affection to the unintelligent child, though Valeria wasn't sure where he learned it from.

She was sure he loved her, and she was fond of him too. Valeria affectionately called him 'Vinnie' in the safety of her own mind. He was the family member that had grown on her the most. Whenever he enraged their father, he would come running to hide behind _her _and she would level Valere with a gaze of fierce hatethat made him so uncomfortable, he left and forgot whatever the heck Vinnie did to piss him off. Vinnie went to Valeriawhen in need, not their mother. _Valeria_.

_' And yet he...'_

What brought this on? What could have possibly changed that made him turn on her like this. Nothing was different between them, at least she didn't think so. Was it because of these... these..._ brats?! _Vinnie wanted to secure his friendship that badly? By god, it was seriously looking like whatever Malfoy touched really did turn sour. Valeria's shocked eyes studied his black ones... was that... in the depths of idiocy that constantly shrouded his eyes, was that...?

_'Is that... Anger I see in his eyes? Under all that stupidity and unintelligence?' _Valeria thought, further shocked. _'No that is jealousy, isn't it? What in the hell is he jealous of, did __**he**__ want to be the damn muggle pariah?'_

It took Valeria a moment, but she realized what he was envious of.

_'Father, that motherfucker!' _Valeria cursed profusely. _'He's jealous that Father is showering me with attention. I swear to god, that man brings me nothing but pain! But that was why Vinnie was so quiet and peaceful? It took him __**that **__long to figure out he was __**jealous**__?! He is seriously so slow that it took him __**hours **__to figure that out? By god, I take it back, all back. He's just as stupid as the Ape.'_

A sharp kick to her side interrupted her. Valeria twitch her head to see Malfoy sneering down at her in a weak imitation of his father's. "You better start running, muggle."

With that, Valeria kicked up and sped through the halls of Malfoy Manor with a speed she didn't even know she possessed.

...

Ten minutes later, and there she was. Angry red sparks blowing up all around her in the small hiding space, with dark and angry mutters in an accent that would have even her parents raising eyebrows in confusion.

A shout of, "What was that?" had her quieting down and the sparks fizzling out. Voices crept closer until they stopped right in front of the tapestry.

"I think I heard someone over here."

"Don't be stupid, there's nothing here." Evidently, not even Malfoy knew about this hidey-hole. Useful information for the future.

Right now though, it was _**payback time**_.

If there was anything Valeria had been proud of in her past life, it was her Smeagol voice. Yes, you read that right. Smeagol, as in the crazed midget from _Lord of the Rings_ that was obsessed with his precious ring. Valeria had had it down to an art, and it was time to see if her tiny vocal chords could imitate the voice in this life.

An evil cackle emanated from behind the tapestry, making the boys jump. _"Hello, boys. Gregory, Vincent... Draco. How nice to finally meet the children of my followers."_

"Who-Who's there?" Came the quaky voice of Malfoy.

_"Why, isn't it obvious? I am the most powerful of them all, the purest dark lord, the nightmare that makes muggles and mudbloods quake in their beds," _Valeria hissed. _"It is I, Lord Voldemort!"_

Valeria tugged at her magical core, the power zinged through her body and loud bangs erupted around the children. They jumped like scared little rabbits and ran away screaming, their shrieks bouncing down the halls. Valeria giggled and cackled, slipping out from behind the tapestry once they were long gone.

"That was spectacular."

Valeria was immensely proud of herself, humming as she strolled down the halls before slowing to a stop. What now?

She supposed she could go find the adults, but that sounded boring and she was still frightened of greasy old Snape. Better to wander and explore the halls of Malfoy Manor. There was bound to be interesting things lying around.

The pseudo-child resumed humming and walked aimlessly around the mansion, swinging her head around to look at everything. She opened a random door and discovered a beautiful, albeit dusty bedroom. A light caught her eye, or rather a reflection.

Valeria gazed in wonder at the mirror. It had a gorgeous framework, gilded with a dull gold. The intricate and delicate patterns looked immensely difficult to achieve, and the artist in Valeria could appreciate the effort that evidently went into it. What really had her enraptured, however, was her own reflection.

_'This is the first time I've ever laid eyes on a mirror in the wizarding world,' _Valeria thought in awe. _'I don't think there is a single one in our house. Mother probably removed them all. I would too, if I looked like her.'_

By extension, Valeria had never even had a proper look at herself. There were blurred reflections in water, but here she had a crystal clear image of herself. Stringy black hair just like her mother's fell around her chubby shoulders, and flat on her forehead. She wasn't exactly pretty, not that she had expected to. Actually, there was nothing pretty about her except...

_'No wonder he flinched,' _Valeria thought back to her birth, when she was first shoved unceremoniously in her father's arms. _'It must have been so disconcerting to see your own eyes in a baby you don't even want, an alien creature.'_

And it was no wonder the looks of hatred and disgust she threw at him made him so very uncomfortable. Imagine your own eyes glaring at you with loathing in their depths. It must have been something akin to punishment. _'Good,' _Valeria thought angrily, her grey eyes narrowing in the mirror. _'The baby-hating murderer deserves it.'_

She peered closer at her image. Come to think of it, besides the eyes and the hair, she looked nothing like her parents, or even her own twin. Vincent Crabbe had thick, fat features and deep set eyes, just like their mother. Victoria Crabbe in particular had sallow skin, and a haphazardly squashed nose. Their father, on the contrary, had delicate and soft features, with an aristocratic impression.

Valeria looked nothing like that. In her past life she had an average face (let's face it, everything in her past life had been average and boring), but here her face was rather... pointy in comparison to her family. Pointy nose, pointy chin. She probably resembled a cousin or an aunt, if she had any. If she really did have extended family, she wouldn't blame them for not visiting. They were the _Crabbe _family, who in their right minds wanted to see _that _freak show.

"Wow," she whispered to herself, eyes hooded after staring into the mirror for what felt like seconds but actually several minutes. She hadn't even realized she had stepped closer to the mirror. Honestly, Valeria could sit their gazing all day at her own reflection, and the mirror was just so _inviting..._

A small leathery, dry hand grabbed her own, tugging it away from the mirror's surface. Valeria could have sworn the object shuddered with disappointment.

The reincarnation gulped. When did her hand lift up to reach out and touch the reflective surface? She was sure she hadn't consciously made the decision. How strange.

"Little Crabbe," came an eerily familiar squeak. "You mustn't touch the mirror. 'Tis cursed, it is. A dark object that will suck you in and never lets you go!"

Valeria blinked at the small form next to her. "Binky? No... You're Dobby the house-elf!"

Dobby's huge tennis ball eyes widened and bowed. "Dobby is honoured the little Crabbe remembers his name."

"This is wonderful!" Valeria laughed, completely ignoring his warning. "Pleasure to meet you, Dobby, my name is Valeria Irma Crabbe. Let's be friends!"

The house-elf squealed in fear, "Dobby is unworthy of a witch's friendship! House-elves are below their wizarding masters!"

Valeria frowned. "Don't be silly. I'm already friends with my own house-elf, Binky, anyways." Plus it would be awesome to be friends with the Malfoy family's house-elf. The pranks and the shenanigans she could get up to...

The little house-elf in question teared up and started bawling, screaming about how Valeria was oh so kind and how neither a witch nor a wizard had _ever _offered him or any other house-elf their friendship. It took quite a while to calm him down. When she finally managed after the poor thing bashed it's head into the wall, she sighed and turned her attention back towards her reflection in the mirror. It was drawing her in, and she simply couldn't resist it...

Dobby practically dragged her from the dark object. "No, missus! 'Tis cursed, cursed!"

"Wha..?"

"Missus, you will be lost forever if you give in to its temptation!"

Valeria looked back again at the mirror, and finally noticed something most disturbing. She shivered. The girl was the only reflection in its- now that she was aware enough to feel the magic- pulsating surface. Literally, the only reflection. There was no bed or dresser where it should be, only a white floor and white walls, and a quick check confirmed that the carpet was supposed to be silver and the paint emerald. Valeria herself was dragged by empty air, Dobby wasn't in there at all.

It was positively scary now. The throbbing presence of evil that was laced throughout it didn't help matters, and now that she was concentrating on it, she could feel the evil magic of various dark objects surrounding her in the room, and even in the rest of the house.

"Why do the Malfoys leave something so dangerous lying around in the house for children to find," Valeria asked, a little shaky.

"Because, missus," the house-elf replied a little quietly, eyeing her strangely. "The mirror can only capture the vanity of mature minds, vanity that..."

Valeria froze, heart shuddering as she hoped Dobby didn't realize anything off about her. "That...?"

"Vanity that no child such as yourself should possess. It has only ever possessed adults and older children, missus."

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><p>Valeria stepped quietly out of the fireplace with her mother and twin, glad to be safe in the confines of her own home. There were no dark objects in reach here.<p>

It had taken forever to convince a concerned Dobby not to tell Lucius of the accident with the mirror. Thankfully, the house-elf hadn't realized there was something different about her and was convinced the mirror had somehow evolved to affect toddlers as well. He wanted it put away. Valeria managed to assuage his worries by throwing a dusty blanket over the creepy thing.

_'So close,' _Valeria shivered. _'If Dobby hadn't been there...'_

She suddenly had the urge to kiss the sweet house-elf.

"Valeria," her mother's obnoxious voice interrupted her thoughts not for the first time. "What did you think?"

Valeria noticed her twin had gone ahead, clearly as tired as she was and anxious to sleep. "Think of what, Mother?" _You know no one in our family thinks._

Victoria winked at her and gave her nudge. Valeria groaned in response, remembering the little hints her mother had shot at her, her exhausted mind forgetting that she shouldn't speak so openly like an adult. "Mother, I don't like pompous blondes. Please don't pair me up with Malfoy."

Mercifully, her mother didn't notice or take offense. She just looked bemused, which was a strange look on the very dim-witted Victoria Crabbe.

"Well," she said dryly. "I suppose it's a good thing I originally paired you up with Gregory Goyle."

Valeria stopped.

Curled up.

And cried.

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><p>AN: Wow, poor Valeria. A Crabbe _and _soon to be Goyle. Everyone last chapter expected it to be Malfoy. So **of course** I went back and changed it all up so it looked like it would be him. Even Valeria thought it was Malfoy. I so love fooling and surprising people.

**PAIRINGS STILL AREN'T FIXED! **I know it probably looks like it'll definitely be a Malfoy/Valeria or maybe even Goyle/Valeria pairing (yuck), but I'm still not sure and want to see how she interacts with other characters (the characters write the story, not me). I know I said don't badger me about it in the first chapter, but I really don't mind hearing what pairings people like. But **seriously**, don't badger me.

I decided to make Valeria's past background Canadian, simply because the only environment I'm familiar with is Canada considering I've lived my whole life here and it would be difficult to write from the perspective of well... anywhere else, really. (Except for maybe America).

Really though, Canadian geese are **vicious** creatures. A relative got too close once despite our warnings (that stupid foreigner) and it bit right into his crotch. His screams of agony weren't all that pleasant.

If you don't review, Snape will use his Legume powers to turn you into a vegetable!

-Fiction

PS: I can't remember for sure, but is Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle actually unofficially called the Unholy Trio? I felt like they should have a nickname since the Golden Trio have one, but I get the feeling I've read it somewhere before.


	5. Chapter 5: Valere I Bonus

A/N: Hello, my beautiful, magical, wondrous, amazing readers. So sorry for the week late update, life has been thoroughly kicking my butt. This chapter is even longer than the last one, plus it has a bonus side story at the end, so I hope that makes up for it.

I had some reviewers asking me to please not make Valeria marry Goyle. It was funny, to say the least.

**Semi important note:** It has become painfully clear to me while rereading the past chapter that my writing isn't very funny at all. Maybe I think that because I'm the writer of this story, but there are other themes playing in this fic other than the two listed, as is the case with most stories. So, I'm changing the Humor listing to Family, since it is also a very big theme. Rest assured, I won't be slacking off on the funny bits, I'm still going to be throwing comedy at you, so it won't affect the tone of my writing than originally planned. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the owner of Harry Potter. I just own Binky and Valeria.

No Beta.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Valere I + Bonus<strong>

Valere very nearly had a heart attack when he walked into his study that morning.

There were a couple reasons why.

One, it had suddenly became very clear to him that either his wife, or his two children had entered his study. This was a cause for concern, not because he was working on some dangerous runes or hiding wizard porn in the space- he wasn't.

The very idea of his family voluntarily approaching anything to do with work, or academic study was so otherworldly, it shocked his system.

Yes, Valeria was marginally more intelligent than his wife and son. Yes, she absolutely devoured books and practically lived in their small library- he knew because he asked Binky.

But when handed arithmancy handouts, or fill-in-the-blank worksheets, she would slide the papers right back across the table with a very unimpressed expression and stalk out of the room- again, he asked Binky.

It was safe to say Valeria's interests did not extend towards the realm of effort.

It was also depressing to learn that the last hope for his family would never make it past basic addition and subtraction.

In any case, this sudden one-eighty in his family's personality and character confounded him, if not frightened him half to death. The very room was called 'the study', they should have been avoiding it on principle!

But alas, there, on his desk, lay the second reason for his near-death experience.

An innocent-looking ruffly thing with a note carefully placed on top, proof that _someone_ ventured into his private sanctuary- and it wasn't Binky because she would never leave something laying around on his desk.

Valere's first thought was, _'It's a trap!'_

Next thought was, _'It's a cursed item.'_

_'It'll explode when touched.'_

After that, _'A distraction to catch me off guard so they could finish me off!'_ Which it would seem to be working.

Then, when the ten second panic was past, the sudden, stark realization that he believed his own _family_ was out to get him.

Valere made a mental note to seek therapeutic help.

Despite berating himself for his paranoia, the man proceeded with caution. He advanced towards the inanimate object in a rigid stance with his wand at the ready, looking distinctly like a fencer in the midst of a fierce and deadly duel.

Even a child would claim the sight was silly.

Now, standing in front the small pile of ruffle and lace, he cast every counter-curse and detection spell he knew. Nothing happened. He allowed himself to relax a little and pulled out a powerful detection runic circle he always carried on his person. Sticking his wand into the crumpled parchment and muttering a spell that would allow his magic to bleed into the carefully drawn lines, he then slid the paper onto the surface of his desk.

It had a big enough area of effect to surround the entirety of his desk, and it was meant to reveal any cursed or harmful objects with a distinct black aura. Both the note and the pile proved to be safe.

Ironically enough, an innocent looking remembrall his distant cousin had sent him was immediately surrounded by a vile, black fog. Valere thanked his lucky stars that he was always too preoccupied to actually remember to _check_ to see if he was forgetting something.

He will admit though, that he was a little disappointed with the results of his rune. Now Valere didn't have an excuse to burn the pile where it lay and be done with it all.

"Merlin's balls," he muttered vehemently.

The man took the time to ponder.

He was still a little afraid to find out what those ruffles actually were. He had an inkling suspicion that it was another piece of lingerie his wife would leave lying around his frequent haunts. In all honesty, if this was in any other room besides his study, he would have already deemed it a seduction attempt and asked Binky to please remove it.

But there lay the contradiction in his hypothesis. Victoria was practically allergic to his study and would never venture near the room. Too much academia and work, as it were.

Valere quickly decided that the note was the safest option to start with and laboriously lifted his hand to pick it up and read it. The man narrowed his eyes at the childish scrawl.

_To go with your pretty dress ;)_

_-V.C._

Well, that didn't help at all. They all shared the same initials and all three would have messy handwriting; the children for their poor locomotive skills, and his wife for her lack of use of said skills.

The bigger question was, what blazing dress did this note refer to?

And why on earth would they include a semi-colon and a bracket? Completely nonsensical.

Thoroughly confused, and with a sense of foreboding growing within him, he poked at the ruffles with his wand and lifted it up.

Hanging on the tip, was a small, lace bracelet- or cuff, maybe- with blue beads and a shiny ribbon sewn in an intricate design. It indeed was cute, and would go nicely with whatever hypothetical dress he found himself in.

Valere looked back at the note, the parchment hanging sideways from his fingers. The winky face seemed to grin playfully at him.

Ah.

He was finally beginning to understand what kind of person Valeria Crabbe was.

But maybe he should ask Binky, just to make sure.

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><p>An hour later, Valere had finally prepared himself to look his daughter in the eye at breakfast, and maybe, just maybe have a friendly conversation.<p>

Shouldn't be too hard.

The Crabbe family was already seated at the table when he arrived, and the man avoided looking anyone in the eye when he sat down, just as he had for the last three or so years. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. In his periphery, he noted that Valeria was the only one not eating. Was she perhaps waiting to say something?

Biting into his toast, he decided to make eye contact with her and greet her with a proper good morning.

And then promptly took a sip of his coffee and opened up _The Daily Prophet_, effectively hiding behind the sheets of paper, as per usual. He didn't even glance at her.

Valere wanted to slap himself. This was his four-year-old daughter for crying out loud, he shouldn't be _this _afraid of her!

Steeling himself, (and was that a rush of adrenalin? Pathetic), he cleared his throat and peeked over the newspaper, a good morning practically on the tip of his tongue.

His mouth, however, flopped opened, but it wasn't to address his daughter. It was open in shock.

There was no look of boredom in her eyes, neither a look of private amusement. She wasn't lost in thought, nor eyeing her brother critically. Heck, she wasn't even glaring at her father.

Instead, Valeria Crabbe had the deadest look that he had ever seen in her eyes whilst staring at eggs and bacon. It reminded him a little of himself during his period of engagement to Victoria.

Maybe she was sick of bacon?

_'No,' _Valere quickly dismissed that ludicrous thought. _'That's impossible.'_

What could possibly be wrong?

The man glanced at his wife and son. They were both merrily digging into their piles of food, his wife taking a few moments to chatter inanely about something that passed right over his head. Whatever was bothering the little girl, it didn't concern them.

Valere cleared his throat again, "Valeria?"

She grunted at him in a most unladylike fashion. He decided to ignore it.

"H-how are you feeling today?"

He was beginning to think she was going to ignore him, when she finally spoke up.

"...Like in the blink of an eye, the sun has winked out of the sky, the land has withered and curled into itself, and the oceans have run dry..."

Valere blinked in confusion at the words and morose tone. "I'm sorry, wha-"

"In the span of a heartbeat," the girl continued over him, moving her arms and clenching her fists in a dramatic fashion to emphasize her words. "Mountains have crumbled into dust, fires have trembled and died out, ice creeping to cover every inch of our dead_, dead_ land."

"Valeria-"

"All the warmth is gone. It's so so _so_ cold, and," she began to sound a bit manic. "And the- the magic... all the magic is dead and gone. Dry. Dry like our oceans...! Despair cloaking the sky- the black sky- like clouds of doom...!"

Valere was speechless.

"That," the girl said tremulously. "Is how I am feeling today."

And with that said, the girl burst into tears and ran out of the room, sending Valere into another very near heart attack, and eliciting a very unmanly yelp.

He opened and close his mouth like a gaping fish. He looked across the table to Victoria.

"Is everything alright with Valeria?"

The woman paused in her ramblings to give him a very puzzled look.

"Of course she's alright! What could have possibly made you think otherwise?"

Valere's eye twitched at the ignorant woman. He glanced at their son and he too didn't seem to have noticed the melodramatic way in which his sister excused herself from the table.

Then again, Valere sighed, the boy has always had that vacant look on his face.

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><p>The quill scratched against the parchment, steady and sure, drawing symbols and shapes and archaic languages in a precise and practiced arrangement, the runic language completing the magic circle. Ink stained his fingertips, and with a particularly forceful flick of his wrist, splattered across the desktop.<p>

Valere sighed.

He waved his wand and muttered a scourgify under his breath, scouring the desk free of the offending, magic-conducting liquid. Picking up the finished runic circle, he examined the lines with a critical eye.

Valere sighed again.

It was no good. It had been hours of silent work, and he still couldn't focus long enough to produce something that wouldn't explode in his face. Throwing the faulty rune into the large failure pile, he reached into his pocket to examine the frilly bracelet.

Perhaps she had tried messing with him in an attempt to cheer herself up. She must have been pretty desperate for a pick-me-up if she was willing to venture near his private work space, just to leave behind something to rile him up.

Or, more likely, she had decided to give a prank gift, and the resulting fumes of academia and hard work had drained her very soul, much like a Dementor. He had witnessed a similar phenomenon with Victoria when she ventured in here for the first and last time. One look at all the scholarly books, piles of parchment and complicated runes, and she had fallen ill in bed for a month.

Acute depression, or something along those lines.

Anyhow, Valere wasn't going to find out for sure. Not unless he explicitly asked her, face-to-face. He sighed, pocketing the bracelet again, and prepared himself for the confrontation.

_"BINKY!"_

A crack, and the house-elf he was looking for was standing before him. "Yes, sir?"

He cleared his throat, "Binky, what is wrong with Valeria?"

The elf raised a non-existent brow, "Why, many things sir, for all her years. She is the strangest human child to come into existence. Binky didn't think it was much of a concern since she is not harming herself, or those around her."

Valere drew a blank at that and tried again, "No, I mean, what is wrong with her _now_?"

"There is always something wrong with Valeria, sir."

He took several moments to absorb that. Now that he actively thought about it, that was a very true statement. But it wasn't the time for that, not now.

"Why is she so depressed though? This is unprecedented."

"Not unprecedented."

"Pardon?"

"She was in a state of depression when she was a little over a year old, as much as a baby could be depressed. Right after the night of the Dark Lord's fall."

Huh. How strange.

"But," the elf continued. "Binky's guess is as good as yours, sir. I know as much as you should."

"Well, that's no good," he muttered under his breath. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"You could, if Binky may be so bold," she replied dryly. "Ask the girl. Yourself."

The man spluttered at the miniature person. "A-a-a-ask her? _Myself?!_"

The elf levelled her human master with a look. "She is _your _daughter."

The two magical persons had an eight second staring match before the man gave up with a grimace.

He growled like a child reprimanded by their parent, "_Fine!_"

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><p>Valere, despite his word, did not immediately approach his daughter.<p>

He ended up sneaking around his own house like a magical burglar, back pressed against the walls, head turning to and fro, wand at the ready. He was tempted to wear a _black_ mask, but decided that was too silly and would make it look like he was dressed in a thief's costume.

So instead, he had tied an emerald and silver handkerchief around the bottom half of his face- conveniently forgetting that he could have easily cast a Disillusionment Charm to avoid recognition.

He came upon his daughter's playroom, somewhere he had never ventured to before, lest he suffer nightmares from whatever tortures she conducts down here.

Valere reminded himself of his resolve to seek therapeutic help. It wouldn't do to run around convinced his four-year-old daughter liked to torture for fun.

With a hand trembling in fear, he pushed open the playroom doors.

Oh my.

Well, at least there were no mutilated bodies lying around, or bloody iron maidens.

In their place, were piles of books spirited away from the library and- his eyes narrowed at this- from his own private study. Most were haphazardly organized, but there was small pile neatly placed with care. Story books, he noticed, and beastiaries. So, she liked fantasy and animals.

This surprised him, although it shouldn't have. It was a very... childlike interest, fantasy and animals, he means. It was a pity there were so few novels in the wizarding realm, and that the Crabbes didn't have much of a collection in the study of creatures.

The bigger surprise though, was the musical instrument and the painted canvases. The instrument was merely a simple violin, child-sized, but it appeared well cared for. The really shocking part was that he didn't remember Victoria hiring any tutors of any kind, let alone a violinist. Perhaps she read about violin care in one of these books, and implemented the theory?

The elegant strokes on the canvases, however, were a delight to Valere. It took a precise and steady hand like this to create and experiment with runic circles, and already at such a young age. Maybe he could teach her about his profession and have her carry on the torch of his job within the Runes and Symbols department-

No, it wouldn't work. Valeria hated arithmancy, which is an essential part of arranging runic circles. His hopes for his offspring were brutally crushed once again.

Feeling glum, he examined the subjects of the paintings, only to be mystified once again.

How curious.

The first painting was so detailed, he found it hard to believe a child could possibly conceive it. Such an image could only have come from a real photograph, although he hadn't a clue where Valeria could have seen such a picture. Certainly not the Malfoy's, considering it appeared to be a family photo of _muggles_.

It was a family of seven, standing in front of a modest house. Two parents, and by Merlin were those five, _five _daughters? They all looked rather plain and unremarkable, even for muggles. The parents were old and brown-haired, and looked like stiff academics. Their daughters were skinny, also brown-haired, and looked like a bunch impulsive twits. The odd children in the classroom, if you will.

Two comparatively older daughters- young adults, even- were in the back, arms hugging around the shoulders, and chins resting atop the heads of a pair of teenagers in front of them. The teens were gripping the littlest one's shoulders in the front. They looked very close-knit.

On closer inspection, he realized there was something off about the family. The parents were about two feet apart from the huddled sisters, and there was a tenseness in the figures of the children. The two eldest had strained smiles, as if it took effort. The teenage girls- one of whom was frowning softly- looked like they were trying their best to keep the youngest from running off. She had a most menacing scowl painted on her young features. The only one who appeared to be happy out of the whole family was the other teenage girl, her face lit up in a beatific smile.

It looked mostly like a family suffering from the after effects of a giant fight.

It was extraordinary.

The painting wasn't even bewitched to move, and yet the family was painted with such character. Valeria had evidently put a lot of effort and care into it.

Valere examined the other paintings. One was of one of the teenage girls napping with a large dog, maybe a black Husky or something like that. He wasn't all that familiar with dog breeds. Maybe a German Shepherd? In any case, the girl's behaviour was practically barbaric. She was sleeping with the mutt _on her bed_, a lady should never allow slobbering beasts in even her bed chambers!

Another was an image of all five girls simply lazing around a large couch and an armchair, although it didn't have as much detail as the other two. The eldest had the comfort of the chair and was absorbed in a book, the other four squished on the sofa. A teenager was frowning as she battled the rowdy younger one for a bag of muggle candy, the little girl's face painted with a look of ferocious determination. The dog was there again, sitting against the couch and nosing his muzzle at the candy bag, trying to sneak it away. The last two were watching, the older one smiling softly and the other teenager was doubled over in laughter. In this one, at least, they all looked relaxed.

The last one of the muggle family was of the two teenage girls. Their arms were interlocked, one with a big happy smile on her face as she stared out the portrait, the other with a soft smile, the eyes that were resting on her sister's face betraying how happy she was by crinkling in delight. It wasn't obvious in the other paintings because of stark difference in expression, but it was clear in this one that the two were twins.

Truly, the only thing remarkable about this plain muggle family was how close the daughters appeared to be. When they were together, they looked like a single unit. Valere's eyes swept across the family paintings again. He almost felt like he was intruding on something just by looking at their images.

Was this why Valeria was upset? That their own family was some broken bunch of weirdos, and this was the result of her need for normalcy? Which brings up the question of why a muggle family, and why this very sudden drop in mood.

It probably wasn't because of family, Valere surmised when he examined the paintings critically. They appeared to have been painted over a long period of time, it wouldn't explain the instant case of depression. He sighed from underneath his handkerchief, turned around, and spotted another painting he missed.

This one appeared to be almost done, the fresh paint indicating it was recently painted. It was also easily the most depressingly macabre thing in the room. An image of a bride in an intricate gown was laying down on an altar, arms laid like a corpse, her ankle chained to the altar, makeup running down her cheeks with her tears, surrounded by grinning skeletons in fancy robes. On closer inspection, the designs in her dress appeared to be deformed, screaming faces.

The bride looked suspiciously like an older version of Valeria Crabbe.

Valere was horrified. His mind tried to connect such a gruesome image to his mischievous daughter. How could she- she- she even _imagine _this! He could understand a strange muggle family, but _this?!_ Where did she get these ideas from? He swivelled around at the books in accusation. From one of these books perhaps?

Valere was seriously considering censoring some of the heavier books from her. He thought locking up and hiding the dark and cursed objects would be enough to keep the twins safe, but clearly a few ghastly texts with grisly details were still hanging around the family library.

Binky was right; there really was something with Valeria Crabbe.

That, however, was another issue for another time. Valere calmed himself down and looked back at the disturbing painting. Why a bride? Valeria wasn't engaged or slated to be at all, at least, not that he was aware of...

"Merlin's _balls!_" The man yelled in horror.

He couldn't even ask Binky to be sure, she said she knew as much as he did. That left Victoria and Valeria to question, two people he felt horribly uncomfortable with approaching. The possibility of his theory being correct was highly low though. Valere was her father, if Victoria was going to _plan _something like this, she would have at least _mentioned _it to him. He was sure she would.

Who to ask?

Victoria?

Or Valeria?

Merlin, t was like choosing between castration and horrific torture.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Valere's shout about a certain, great wizard's saggy parts drew someone's attention, and he didn't have to choose at all. A sharp and high voice interrupted his inner turmoil.

"What are you doing in here?"

Valere whipped around to find the very enigma that bothered him all day, standing in the door of her playroom. Her arms were crossed and stormy eyes narrowed in anger. He was about to respond when she practically drooped under the weight of a thousand Victoria's, her arms uncrossing and her eyes taking on a look of emptiness.

"Never mind. I don't care anymore."

It was a sad sight, really. Valere will admit he panicked. His mind drew a blank. So he did something really silly. Striking a theatrical pose, he shouted out in a dramatic voice.

"Behold! I am the great, magical burglar thief, Val- uh- Rogue!"

The child looked at him in disbelief. "Valarogue?"

"No, no. Just Rogue."

"Valarogue," she ignored him, looking at him with disgust now. "What's keeping me from summoning my house-elf and having her curse you all the way to the moon?"

"Just Rogue, please," he practically begged. "And I am no ordinary burglar thief! I do not steal valuable items! I sneak into the rooms of children and steal away their sadness and sorrow! Haha!"

"So let me get this straight," the girl curled her lip, her tone accusatory. "You, Valarogue-"

"Just Rogue."

"- sneak into prepubescent kids' bedrooms when their parents aren't around, and... 'steal away their sadness'."

"... Well, when you put it like that, it sounds horribly wrong."

"Of course it does," the girl growled, her face twisting in revulsion. "You sound like an abhorrent _pedophile_."

"But I'm not!" He cried desperately. "I'm Rogue, I steal misery from sad children so they can be happy!"

"I know that, Valarogue," she crossed her arms again. "You're nothing but a bumbling idiot."

He muttered that it was just Rogue. It was painful to hear that his own daughter though him an idiot. It hurt all the more because she was kind of right in this instance. He sighed.

"Never mind all that," he waved it off. "Tell me why you're upset."

The girl tilted her head, appraising him. Surprisingly enough, he felt more comfortable talking to her as this alter-ego. If it was as Valere, instead of Rogue, he would have been trembling and looking for the nearest escape route. He wasn't a pitiful father, but a magical superhero. Finally, she shrugged at him.

"I'm engaged," she grimaced, and Rogue swore under his breath. "To Gregory Goyle."

Rogue's eyes bugged out at that, "George's son?! When did _that _happen?!"

"I don't _knowww_!" She shouted back in frustration and despair. "Apparently, my mother had been talking about it for weeks during mealtimes, and it'd somehow went in one ear and out the other! She's already signed an engagement contract with them!"

"Weeks?!" He yelled in confusion. "She's always rambling, every second of the day, how did we miss that!"

"_I don't know! _She's like an annoying white noise machine," the girl cried. "I only trained my brain to automatically tune out all her nonsensical babble during breakfast, lunch and dinner, not in between! But apparently she chose not to speak about it in private!"

"My mind is programmed like that too!" he hollered back, his mind on the fritz. "And she didn't talk about it with me in private either!"

"How does she do it," Valeria had tears in her eyes. "It's like some skill she's mastered, to sneak up behind you and pull the rug out from under your feet! No matter how much you adjust to her!"

They both pulled on their hair, yelling and howling in frustration about the annoyance that is Victoria Crabbe.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>Victoria Crabbe had been snooping around her husband's private bed chambers, leaving behind a whale sized, suggestive bra and panty set, when she sneezed a great and powerful sneeze. Then another. And another.<p>

She sniffed. She wondered if there was anyone gossiping about her.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>"What is a white-noise machine, anyways," Rogue asked the little girl after they had calmed down.<p>

"Uh," the girl faltered, before she looked at him dryly. "Why would the magical burglar thief, Valarogue, have to train his mind into filtering out _my_ mother's blathering?"

"I-uh- that is a great mystery indeed, but magical burglar thieves do not reveal their secrets, or something. And it's just Rogue."

She rolled her eyes at him and muttered something suspiciously like 'idiot' under her breath. Rogue examined the misfit in front of him. Really, it was no wonder looking at her during breakfast had reminded him of himself when he was engaged. It wasn't that it was similar, it was _exactly the same_.

Rogue cleared his throat. "But you know, Valeria, you don't have to worry about marrying the Goyle's son. You can refuse the marriage, and I'm sure your father will support you in your decision."

At the change in subject, the girl had tensed, but looked genuinely surprised at that last bit. "Really? You really- I mean- he really would? Support me, I mean."

The doubt colouring her tone made Rogue want to cry, although he supposed he deserved it.

"Well, why wouldn't I- I mean- why wouldn't he?"

"For one, he's a fancy, muggle-hating, blood purist with a pole stuck up his arse," she said bluntly and he winced. "And I don't expect no medi-witch or wizard to be skilled enough to surgically remove it, anyways. Why wouldn't he want me to marry a pure-blood?"

"Uh... well... that's a difficult subject we're-"

She held up a hand to stop him, "That's not the issue anyways."

"It's not?"

"You honestly think anyone would be able to force me into marrying _that_ ape?" She sneered at the idea. "No, I'd sooner Avada that primate than kiss it. My issue is that I'm going to be living my seven years at Hogwarts known as _his fiancee!"_

Ah. There's the problem. She can't deny the engagement until she's of legal age.

"It's bad enough that I'm a Crabbe," she continued with despair, and Rogue flinched at her statement. "And that I'm Vinnie's younger twin sister, no offense to him. Everyone's going to look at me and see my family and their reputation, _and _the Goyle's. I haven't left yet, and I'm already coloured a certain shade in their eyes."

Rogue himself felt depressed to hear of the girl's disdain for her family name. He'll admit, their family doesn't have a nice reputation, but it still hurt.

"Well, who cares what they think?"

"I do," Valeria said frankly. "I just want to live my life peacefully without getting caught up in all this blood purity nonsense. It's bullshit."

_'And that,' _Rogue thought. _'Is a very valid concern. And I have no idea how to fix it for her.'_

"Unless, you know, my father decides to go against my mother and make the engagement null and void," she looked at Rogue hopefully, her big eyes wide and sparkling.

Oh Merlin.

Both Rogue and Valere were going to _hate_ doing this.

"Your father," Rogue began apologetically and sincerely. "Cannot annul a signed agreement your mother made. Standard Magical Engagement Agreements between pureblood families can only be cancelled when one of the parties becomes of age and refuses, or the one who signed the agreement passes on before then. I'm sorry."

Valeria's face crumpled. "That is so messed up! Both parents should have a say in their child's future, at the very least. Wizarding law makes no sense."

"I suppose it doesn't," he murmured.

They sat in silence for a while, and Rogue soon became very uncomfortable. In attempt to take the girl's mind off it all, he asked her about the muggle family paintings.

"This family portrait," he pointed at said painting. "Is so detailed I can only believe you had copied it from a picture or memory. Where did you come across the family?"

The girl looked at it with a faraway expression, "A lifetime ago."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" Rogue asked, confused and a little alarmed.

She rolled her eyes at him, "They're only in my dreams, Valarogue, I'm sure that would've been obvious."

"It's Rogue," he sniffed before a thought came to him. "I could bewitch your portraits to move, if you'd like?"

It had the opposite effect. The girl's face drained of colour. "No, that's too much. I wouldn't be able to stand it."

She left Rogue in the room, muttering quietly, "Lest I find a way to jump into the paintings."

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>Valere sat in his study, jumpy and twitchy. It had been a few weeks since Rogue's talk with his daughter, and his alter-ego's handkerchief lay safely hidden in one of the desk drawers. The girl had been thoroughly depressed since then, when she suddenly went from doom and gloom to perky and sunny in the span of the last twenty-four hours. It was frightening.<p>

There was a crack and Binky appeared in the middle of the room.

"Well?! Did you find out?! Why is she behaving like a bipolar psychopath?!"

The house-elf gave him a very dry look and explained to him the most likely reason for her change in attitude. It was a bit of a surprise, to be sure. More of a shock. He hadn't expected _that_ kind of development when she had been essentially ignoring them her whole life.

He supposed he should be concerned that his daughter was talking to inanimate objects.

Good thing they talked back.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>AN: I would just like to inform you guys that this isn't compliant with my story, meaning it's just a funny blurb that has no effect on or is true to my story. Thank you, and I hope you laugh.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>This.<p>

This is a story.

A story of **WHAT IF?!**

**WHAT IF **Valeria was wrong about Vincent?!

**WHAT IF **Vincent wasn't jealous because of their father?!

**WHAT IF **it was something else entirely?!

Here begins the story of...

**WHAT IF?!**

Vincent Crabbe took the game as opportunity to revolt against his twin sister, jealousy interfering with his already tiny intelligence. He stared blankly down at his sister, who he had just pushed down and was looking back up at him in shock and disbelief.

He didn't care about his father's attention, not really. He only needed his mother and sister's affections, and they gave him plenty of that. If anything, Val cares more about their father than he does, judging by the way she glares at him and messes with his head. He essentially ignored his father most of the time, besides when he wanted to punch or kick something. What could he say? It made him feel powerful and strong.

No, their father wasn't the reason for his jealousy. The real reason was...

"You better start running, muggle," came a sneer from one of the other boys. Vincent twisted his head to look at the blond, a delicate blush painting the twin's pale cheeks.

Yes.

He was the reason.

Draco Malfoy.

Why did Val and their mother get to have a kiss from him, and not Vincent? It wasn't fair.

When he first laid eyes on the boy, he was struck with how pretty his hair was. Like spun gold. And his eyes, grey, like storm clouds. He wanted to say hello, or something witty like, 'I punched my father the other day and it was funny.' That would have made him laugh. It makes Vincent laugh.

But then Vincent remembered a conversation he had with his sister a long time ago. It went something like this:

"Vinnie, you know how I sometimes say something really funny?"

"Yeah."

"And how you sometimes try to follow it up to make it even funnier?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm, probably not the best way to go about this, can't very well say 'you're not funny'. Might hurt your feelings. Let's see... Do you feel smart when you say something... well, 'funny'?"

"Yeah."

"Well, sometimes, you'll look even smarter if you don't say anything at all."

"Yeah."

"Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"... Vinnie, I am a cross-dressing merman come to eat you in your sleep."

"Yeah."

"... You know what, never mind, Vinnie."

"Yeah."

It had been a very enlightening conversation, one with intelligent insight provided from both sides.

The rush of excitement he had felt, however, when his sister had essentially gave him a game plan to look smarter and cooler than her in front of other people, made him insurmountably happy. So happy, that he wanted to show her how he felt and how much he loved her for it, in the best way he knew how.

He had given her a swift punch to the gut, and she responded by doubling over, desperately drawing in breath from the weight of his brotherly affection.

So, when he met the Malfoy family, he didn't say a word, not even when he was upset that he didn't get a kiss from his pretty new friend. Then, a stroke of luck.

"Aren't you going to give my brother a kiss too?" Came from his indignant and haughty sister. How he adored his sister.

There was fierce battle between Val and the pale boy, but eventually his sister won, of course. She was very smart, even if Vincent was smarter than she was. His heart sped up when the boy approached him, and he fluttered his eyelashes at him. A blush surfaced on his cheeks and the boy was about to kiss his hand and...

... They were interrupted by the Goyle's. The boy didn't kiss his hand.

Vincent was heartbroken, and Val didn't fight again for his kiss. He didn't even get a chance to show his affection back, Vincent style. A punch straight to the heart.

... It just wasn't fair at all.

Jealousy began to stew in his heart. He wondered if his sister even wanted the boy to give him a kiss, and if she wanted to keep blond for herself. He tried to ignore it. Really, he did. But when they had declared Val to be the muggle of the game, he had pushed her down instead of joining her. Not even a fond push, one out of muted anger.

He had thought, whatever, she'll forgive him. They were brother and sister, after all.

But for now, she was a muggle, he was a Death Eater.

"Come on, after her!" Shouted the blond boy.

And Draco Malfoy was his Dark Lord.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>AN: Well, there we had a look into Valere's head, his life, Valeria's hobbies, and her past life. I gave a few hints in the previous chapters to some of the things revealed in this one.

Now, I'm curious. Did any of you expect these developments? Which of the sisters in the portraits do you guys think was Valeria in her past life? And what do you think of Vincent and Valere's characters?

Remember to review, please, or send me a PM

-Fiction


	6. Chapter 6: Person? What Person?

A/N:

The following chapter is dedicated to my wonderful, former writing teacher who has passed away recently.

In her memory, I do hereby swear to see all of my written works finished to the end.

Fanfiction wasn't exactly her cup of tea, but she always did encourage my style of writing and brand of humour.

That said, I've been arrested by plot bunnies for the last week and have four different stories that insist on being written.

God help me.

Ten points to whoever can recognize the quote in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

No Beta

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Person? What Person?<strong>

Three weeks.

For three weeks, depression had clung onto Valeria like water to a cat's fur, and like a cat it had made her absolutely miserable. A numb cloud of despair permeated the air she breathed, and with every intake of breath she grew even more insufferable. A weight that rivalled Victoria Crabbe's rested on her shoulders, her back stooped wherever she went. It was beginning to affect her ability to think and function, ending up reading the same page over and over for ten minutes, or trying to zip up her stolen shorts over her skirts.

It had even gotten to the point where she thought she saw apes out of the corner of her eye.

For _three weeks._

_**Apes**_**.**

Not that Valeria had taken notice of the passage of time. Oh no, not at all. She spent those weeks in a complete daze. It was more like an endless hallway of doom that she was forced to shuffle down forever.

If she did notice, however, she would have noted that it had been twenty-four days since her own flesh and blood had delivered her prison sentence, when something had changed.

Something amazing.

Something phenomenal.

Something _miraculous. _

...

Well, not really. It was rather mundane for most wizards, if not a little unorthodox, but to the despondent girl it was like an angel smiled down at her. Quite literally, in fact, but we'll get to that later.

In addition to the usual doom and gloom that day, Valeria had been suffering from a horrible headache. She had spent most of lunch trying to rewire her brain and force herself to actually _listen_ to her mother's nonsensical ramblings. To say the least, Valeria was still having trouble finding the connection between the words "Dumbledore's fingernails", and "the rings of Saturn". The words in between had been lost to what Valeria now calls 'The White Noise Effect'.

Coincidentally, her father had also been attempting to listen in on Victoria's babble, his facial expressions bordering the fine line of concentration and constipation. He had been looking rather green during a slew of sentences in which Valeria had only been able to catch the words "new", and "growth". By the way he puked into his coffee mug and dashed out of the room, she was glad she had missed that particular subject, whatever it was.

In any case, she had been stumbling down the hallway (it was a really _really _bad headache) when she glanced up to find a lady peering down at her. The lady greeted her with a beatific smile when their eyes met, and she seemed so kindly that Valeria found it hard not respond with a smile of her own. It came out looking more like a grimace, but the lady looked very pleased with the attention. Nodding at the woman, Valeria ambled to her door and proceeded with her daily activities of brooding and feeling sorry for herself.

_'If only everyone was as sweet as her... then I'd actually _like_ people.'_

Not that Valeria had always been a pessimistic people-hater, but when one is at their all time low they either tend to want to burn everything and everyone, or isolate themselves completely from the world.

In Valeria's case, it was both.

She had occupied herself with a stylized painting of a remembered quote, having moved all her equipment into her bedchambers for a more... efficient isolation (it was easier to avoid everyone if she limited herself to one room). She was feeling very satisfied with the words while perfecting a curve to one of the letters. It went something like this,

**'Give a man a fire and he's warm for a day, **

**but set fire to him and he's warm for the rest of his life.'**

The four-year-old child was singing these words under her breath while painting, when a thought had struck her, stilling the movement of her hand. It had suddenly occurred to her that she had _not _been strolling the streets and nodding hello to friendly strangers. She had, in fact, been in her hallway.

It took a while, but despite the debilitating headache, Valeria had still been able to string together two premises and a conclusion.

1: Valeria had been walking down her hallway, and not a public street.

2: Valeria had encountered a stranger.

Therefore: There was a stranger in her house.

A stranger.

In the Crabbe family home.

There was a stranger wandering willy-nilly in her home.

"..."

Valeria went a little cross-eyed.

Why in the world was there a stranger in the house? Didn't proper purebloods avoid the Crabbe family as a general rule? They've had literally no guests, barring the one time when she was a baby. She was sure her family didn't get invited anywhere either. The Malfoy's didn't count because it was less of a friendly visit and more of a minion recruiting session. Valeria hadn't even seen the world outside the family gardens for crying out loud, besides her past life of course.

The mini adult dashed to her doors and stumbled while fumbling with the handle, tripping head over heels. She was beginning to wonder if the annoying pitch of Victoria Crabbe's voice could permanently disable one's balance, and if so, become weaponized, when she brushed herself off and looked up.

Oh.

Well... at least there were no _strangers _in her house. The woman looked pleasantly surprised and was still standing there, or rather, _ hanging _there. Not on a noose, mind you, even in her woozy state Valeria would have noticed something _that_ morbid hanging outside of her bedroom. She was hanging within a frame, the precise strokes making the paint within mostly realistic.

The lady was not a lady at all; she was a painting.

"I feel silly now," Valeria muttered and turned back. "You're not a person."

"How rude. I _feel _like a person, so I obviously must be one." The high, clear voice stopped Valeria in her tracks and she spun on her heel.

"You're a conscious portrait," Valeria stated with an appraising look in her eye.

"That I am," the portrait responded primly.

Valeria grunted and examined the painting. The young lady had perfectly styled, wavy black hair, pale skin, and stormy grey eyes that seemed to be inspecting Valeria just as thoroughly. She was poised on a plush chair in a fancy dress, a decorative bowl of fruit placed next to her. _'Or maybe not so decorative,' _Valeria thought to herself, eyeing an apple core partially hidden by the crystal bowl. Altogether, however, she was beautiful and graceful. _'And she has Crabbe colouring. Probably a distant relative, or a long dead ancestress.'_

"I didn't think an inanimate object would count as a person," Valeria mused quietly to herself.

"Technically, I_ am _animate."

"Technically yes, even though your frame isn't going anywhere. But not good enough," Valeria dismissed with a wave of her small hand. "There are plenty of animate objects that are most definitely not people."

"Name some," the portrait challenged.

"The moving suits of armour, changing staircases, and the Sorting Hat," Valeria recalled from her previous knowledge of Hogwarts. The lady narrowed her eyes, a look in the stormy depths that belied something Valeria didn't have time to decipher before it was quickly erased.

"I beg to differ about the Sorting Hat, but point taken," the woman twirled a finger in her hair absently. "I still maintain that I am a person."

"No, you are a copy of a person," Valeria shot up at her. "A container that spews back the knowledge, personality, and memories of a person far away from here. An imprint is what you are."

"That is not all that I am," the woman shot back. "There is more to me than just a duplication and a mass of moving oil paint. First thing you learn is to never underestimate the boundaries of magic."

Valeria's lips twitched upwards. "Are you prepared to defend yourself, then?"

"I'm always ready," came the snarky reply. The elegant lady stuck a pinkie in her ear then blew on the appendage, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees. The very picture of _in_elegance. _'That's my kind of pureblood,' _Valeria thought appreciatively. _'Although that first bit was kind of gross.'_

"This conversation," she began. "Should be proof enough for you that I am a person."

"How so?"

"If I were simply a container for all that was once a person, then this conversation shouldn't even be happening. All I would be doing would be 'spewing back' remembered things and facts in a way that fits with my progenitor's persona. An automated response system, if you will. And yet, here we are. Having a spirited _debate_ on whether or not I really am a person. Why?

"Because, young lady, I have intelligence, a shipload of it I might add. Try as hard as you might, you can't copy intelligence and call it fake."

"Well, there's no denying that," Valeria shrugged. "But that is still not good enough. Intelligence does not a person make. My brother and my mother have no smarts to speak of, are you claiming they are not people?"

"Low intelligence, high intelligence, average intelligence," the lady sighed. "Is still intelligence."

"And _I _am still not convinced."

"I was just starting," the woman raised an eyebrow. "Look at it another way. Have you ever seen a talking portrait of a living person?"

"I've only left the manor once," Valeria supplied dryly.

"There isn't, at least in the twenty-four years this young Crabbe had been alive," the lady ignored her. "And yes, there is a reason why."

"Do tell."

"You can't have two of the same _person_ coexisting in the same universe. Not even magic can violate that natural law. Sure, you can physically become someone through polyjuice potion, or pretend with a spell, or have an identical twin, or paint an image of another and magic it to move, or even create a simple reflection with a mirror. But it's not the same. It's not the essence of the man or woman you are attempting to recreate. The words, 'everyone is unique' aren't just to make people feel better about themselves, you know."

"That's an interesting philosophy you have there."

"Not just an interesting philosophy, it is a fact."

"Some explaining would do wonders right about now."

The woman sighed, "A portrait cannot become a _person _while their progenitor is still alive. You can place the appropriate magic on their image, but it won't work. Not until the originator is dead. It's not well known, but wizards and witches alike have tried to overcome that law and create conscious portraits while their originals were still living and breathing. But the universe just won't allow it. Only in the person's death can the magic ensnare a piece of their... soul, if you will, in the image. A variant of a ghost if you want to think of it like that, and it's generally accepted among wizarding folk that ghosts _are_ people."

_'Like Dumbledore's portrait. Didn't that only appear after his death? But...'_

"Your theory is incorrect," Valeria scoffed, her mind going to Voldemort and his horcruxes. "You can split your soul while you're still alive, can't you?"

The lady's nostril's flared and she narrowed her eyes at the little girl in anger, standing up so swiftly that the oil paint blurred. Valeria involuntarily took a step back.

"Who told you that?" The woman's voice was dangerously soft. "Was it your father? Or was it _him? How dare he?! _When I get my hands on that snake bastard...!"

The woman reached out her hands as if to exit the painting, and for a scary moment, Valeria really thought she would. She could see the pads of her fingers and her palms facing outwards, resting against a- a- a surface of some kind for a second before _pressing into the dimensional fabric _that separated the two. Like an elastic surface, the portrait stretched outwards from the force and created an almost mesmerizing effect with the stretched paint, the colours mixing and the hues changing erratically. Cracks could be heard from the wood of the frame. Valeria gulped and took another step back.

This was something she had never seen or heard of in the _Harry Potter_ books of her past life. Valeria couldn't have even fathomed this blatant violation of dimensional structure.

"... putting dangerous ideas in a _child's _head no less! Oh, there will be _hell _to pay-"

"Wait!" Valeria yelped, the woman was caught by surprise, and the dimensional fabric pushed back. The woman reeled a bit before glaring down at the little girl.

"It wasn't my father, nobody told me," Valeria rushed out in a panic. "It was just a thought I had, that's all. Probably read it somewhere."

The woman stared at her for a few moments before huffing and allowing the tension in her frame- not her body, but the actual frame that held the portrait- to release. She still, however, fixed her with a firm stare. "There are no books on the theory of splitting one's soul, none that any adult wizard can get their hands on at any rate. That is dangerous thinking, Valeria."

"Er, sorry?" She apologised meekly under the force of the oil painted stare.

"Listen carefully. What I said still holds true. The same being cannot coexist with itself in the same universe. When one forcefully divides their soul into seven pieces, for example, it changes them. They're never the same, never again. The spirit becomes twisted and evil, a shadow or a relic of what that person once was. They're not... not the... the same. How do I put this without repeating myself? They're images or reflections. They won't ever truly become their originator, and no two pieces are alike anyhow.

"One may try to cheat death and become immortal by carving up their very essence," she continued gravely. "But they become less than what they were before. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Good. Now forget you ever had that thought, and forget this conversation."

"Yes ma'am."

"Now let's drop this stupid 'person' farce, shall we," the woman said dryly. "You've had your fun."

Valeria's eyes widened after a moment of processing. "How did you know?"

"Are you _trying_ to insult me," the lady asked incredulously, leaning in. "It was obvious from the beginning. You never disputed that I could feel, had emotions. Instead of saying 'you can talk', you chose the words, 'you're conscious'. Both mean you at least subconsciously accept those to be true. Your points were half-hearted, you could have argued them more than you actually did. Besides, that little... display I had should have convinced you."

"Because something cannot fight against itself, it's very existence. A portrait cannot fight being a portrait, and it certainly can't attempt to exit itself," Valeria finished for her in a daze. "Meaning you're something else entirely, trapped within whatever the heck that dimensional space is."

"Exactly," the woman casually examined her fingernails. "If you actually believed I wasn't a person, you would have walked away and ignored me like most wizards. Shall I go on?"

"No," Valeria stared up at the woman in awe and wonder. This Crabbe lady was a work of art, both figuratively and literally. She's never met anyone this sharp, and it had suddenly occurred to her that this woman was leagues ahead of her in the intellectual department. And the beauty department, to top it off with a cherry.

Where was she all of Valeria's second life?

_'Hanging around in front of my bedroom door,' _Valeria internally berated herself. _'Of course.'_

The little girl snapped to attention in a sad attempt at an elegant bow, "Pardon me, Ms. Crabbe. I am Ms. Crabbe, pleasure to meet you."

"Clever one, aren't you, Ms. Crabbe?" Ms. Crabbe eyed her. "You'd do well in my House. A Ravenclaw if I ever saw one."

"Ravenclaw?" Valeria frowned. "I would have pegged you for a Slytherin. The manor is decked out attic to cellars in green and silver. It looks like our family has never even seen another House member."

"Well don't let it fool you."

"Hm," Valeria hummed. "Whatever. I ain't a Ravenclaw. Hardly studious and definitely not _that _ intelligent."

"Not that intelligent?" Ms. Crabbe barked out a laugh. "You're a four-year-old child and you speak as though you're a grown adult."

Valeria just shrugged. It would have been too troublesome to explain that she had the mind of a nineteen-year-old.

"But if not a Ravenclaw, then Slytherin? You'd fit there too."

"Nah," Valeria grinned lazily. "Hufflepuff. Couldn't be farther from the action."

"Hufflepuff?" Ms. Crabbe repeated. "What action?"

"Oh, you know, the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry," Valeria lied smoothly. The only plot relevant person in Hufflepuff was Cedric Diggory, easy enough to avoid.

"My dear Valeria Crabbe," Ms. Crabbe said consolingly. "I hate to break it you, but you're not hardworking and you're certainly not fair. Can't say I've seen much as far as loyalty goes, considering you have no friends."

"Ouch," Valeria winced. "That breaks my heart. I can be hardworking when I want to be, and who said I wasn't fair?"

"I did."

"Oh, you're just a painting, what do you know about _fair_?"

Ms. Crabbe just gave her a very flat look. Valeria's grinned even wider now and turned back to her doors, throwing a casual talk to you later over her shoulder.

It was only after closing her doors behind her that the little girl realized that the reason why her face felt funny was because she was smiling. Only after finishing her painting did she realize that it was the first time in a while that she hadn't thought of her engagement.

And it was while drifting off to sleep with a soft smile on her face, that Valeria had realized that something amazing was happening, something phenomenal, something _miraculous._

She might have been in the midst of making her first friend.

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><p>(V)(°,,,,°)(V)<p>

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><p>AN: Short, I know, please forgive me, but I wanted to get something out for Christmas. Heavy on the philosophy, eh? Thoughts on Ms. Crabbe? Thoughts on the superduper long conversation? Did it even make sense? I hope it did.

Fair warning, I realized if I don't start skipping time, Valeria's going to go to Hogwarts after chapter 2651375. Next chapter will be a time skip.

I've updated my profile (finally) and you'll see descriptions of the plot lines that besieged me, if anyone's interested in taking a look.

Merry Christmas everyone!

- Fiction

PS. This will probably seem pathetic, but please please review?


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